The Lord of the Manner
by Presca
Summary: The story after the movie when Viola goes to Virginia with Lord Wessex.  Their struggles together and when she dreams of poetry he finds it has the oddest affect on him - he begins to fall in love with her.
1. Chapter 1

The Lord of The Manner

By Presca

May 2, 1607

On route to Jamestown, Virginia aboard the Godspeed

As she sat in a huddled up against the wall of one of the largest oak supports for the ship, the splinters nearly brushed the back of her simple cotton dress – a style she had grown accustomed to as her fine silk gowns were bundled away in a large oak chest in one corner of the cabin she shared with her husband – nearly a crawl space but enough for their voyage. She touched a few stray, golden curls of her hair that had slipped out from underneath her head scarf and circled her ear. Picking up her journal, she wrote a note at the bottom of her most recent entry for that day.

'What sort of bewitching spell had been cast on his mind to seek westward towards the promise of a new land? This foolish decision that now set us adrift upon our thirty-second day at sea…'

Viola tried hard to steady her hand as the rolling sea made it feel as if her delicate stomach were lurching with every wave when she heard her husband knocking loudly on the wall near where she sat on an empty barrel in the corner.

"Good wife, it will be morrow if you do not join us for your dinner up on the main deck – I have been sitting alone at the table for the past half of the hour. Please, join us this instance, you are putting my reputation to shame that I can not have the will to keep my own woman beside me for more than a short passing time!" Robert barked as he looked at her, his handsome face scowling into a deep furrow. Such beauty wasted on such a personage, she would never understand God's will.

Will. The name that hesitated on her dear mind made her stop for a moment and close her eyes. She shook off the sensation and rose to her feet Lord Wessex' beckon. She had to show her place amongst members of the crew, it was an edict – not so much for decorum but because food was what had since sustained her to keep going on. Also, she had to appear grateful that at least they had not been banished to eat with the lesser crew and passengers, though she for one wouldn't have minded as much as her husband for the slight.

She was surprised then as she felt his hand reach out to take her's gently in his own. It was times like this that it was with relief to know that though he'd brought her to this point that they were suffering this together.

He, too, had his own regrets on his decision. He'd been errant in thinking this trip would be one of comfort and of leisure. It was anything but.

It had been a bald-faced lie that he'd told to Viola and her dear family about his plantations in Virginia – the truth was he'd never even stepped foot in the country beyond England – this new world yet unseen and promised. He had been a man of means when his family willed everything to him after his father's death, he'd been made a lord but nothing to show for it except title and a deed to land that was yet to be completely bequeathed to him. Money had been incredibly tight and he knew that had he not made an effort on his own, his fortunes would have ended up being squandered as they very nearly had.

As soon as he saw Viola de Lesseps, the woman he stood with under the dark lantern light at this instance – he knew that his emotions had overstepped the bounds of his propriety. Normally able to push aside any sense of the trivial wiles of the opposite sex, he had however found himself speechless in her presence – something he had to admit he still felt even to this day as he looked over at her, tentatively touching his hand, wrapping her little fingers around his for support. She was tall for a woman of her age, but willowy and lovely to behold. Her soft, flaxen hair was hidden behind a white scarf to hold the bun in place upon her head. She looked up at him and he tried to say something – but again words were lost to him. Her eyes were sage grey, filled with sadness and distrust. Her lips moved as well, quivering a bit – something rare for her, as if she were searching for the words. The color to her peach skin had lost it's luster somewhat in the dismal surroundings, he hoped that it wasn't illness, perhaps she was just tired.

Her skin felt somewhat cold against his – without thought – he lifted her tiny fingertips up to his lips and blew into the palms of her hands to warm them.

Viola's eyes grew wide as she felt the heat of his breath against her skin, her lips parting in surprise. She could feel the color returning to her cheeks as he looked up, suddenly realizing the effect he was having on her and equally embarrassed.

As she gazed up at him, admiring up close possibly for the first time since she'd met him just how vulnerable he looked when his guard was down, how the glimmer of green in amidst the forever dark of his chestnut eyes struck her and how much his dimpled chin trembled…this was dangerous she thought to herself, he was uncharted territory.

Robert sensed her uneasiness as he could feel her hands shake as much as his own, immediately he dropped them and moved away from her.

She seemed – almost disappointed, but he had to remain strong in the face of it.

"I do apologize, I know how cold you can be sometimes," he growled, his expression returning to one of disdain almost as if she disgusted him suddenly.

Viola seemed angered by his tone. He hadn't meant it that way, but leave it to his wife to take things the wrong way.

When he tried to respond to it, she held up her hand.

"I understand, Lord Wessex, say no more – you have made your point. I thank you."

With that she turned resolutely on her heel and marched from the room without another word.

He rolled his eyes in aggravation and followed her.

May 10, 1607

The clouds moved across the sky, somewhat in ominous color to shade the sun trying to break through and brighten the day. It fascinated Viola who stood on the deck, watching the crew around her fastening down the mast and attending to other duties.

They ignored her as she walked amongst them to the edge of the deck – they seemed to be hurried in their activity so she didn't bother them as they went about their work.

Reaching out to steady herself as a sweep of waves underneath the ship threatened to disrupt her balance. She smiled as she felt the wind blowing in her face. The clean, salt air felt wonderful after days cooped up in the hold of the ship.

Briefly her thoughts fled across the sea to her love Will, no doubt thinking about her this instance as she was him. A tear fled to her eye.

"Will…" she whispered. "One day, I will return to you."

Suddenly, she felt someone arrest her arm from the railing. Startled by the disruption, she turned to face Robert, his eyes brimming with anger.

"What on earth do you think you're doing?" He yelled at her over the wind.

"I am neither harming nor bothering you, sir – take your hands off me at once!" She snarled and shook him loose. Facing him briefly, she gave him a hearty shove backwards.

He growled and came for her again as he grabbed her arm more roughly than before.

"Get inside! This instant!"

She began to fight him off. "Have you lost your mind, Lord Wessex? Let me go!"

They created quite the scene on board the ship, with Viola trying to push him one way and Lord Wessex doing his best to drag his wife along the other. No one thought to interrupt them, stranger things had happened on board and given they were betrothed to one another – they did not see it fit to intervene in marital affairs of others.

It was only when Viola's nurse came rushing out on the deck to grab one of her arms to assist her husband that she realized the full reality of the necessity for her to move.

For as soon as she made it down in the hold and the hatch was pulled did she feel the gust pick up and the sea swell underneath the ship, sending her tumbling into her husband who caught her before she could hit the floor. She buried her face in his chest as the water splashed in between the wood of the hatch. People gasped and jumped aside.

She gazed up at Robert who gave her a look of disdain.

"Perhaps from this point on you will heed my word!" He hissed as he took his jacket from his shoulders and wrapped them around her instead. "Nursie, take her inside at once before she catches her death of cold!"

She nodded dumbly as her nurse brought her over to her side and Robert walked off in a huff, shivering a little bit as the chill got to him.

"Why must you always fight, my dear? You shouldn't challenge him so much. He is your husband!" Her nurse chastised her, shaking her head as she shuffled her along in front of her.

"Good nurse, if he were not such a brute in his words and gestures but simply asked me to follow him and his reasoning in doing so – I would not find the necessity to argue."

"He cared for your safety as he should, grant him a little respect for that – I hate to admit it myself, but perhaps a heart beats beneath that beast."

Viola smiled at her words and kissed her plum cheek. "I will try. I'll do that for you and you alone – I will try to be civil."

"Good girl. Now off you go and warm yourself, I can't have you getting sick on me."


	2. Chapter 2

(Later that night):

Her husband barely said two words to her for the rest of the evening, instead glowering at her over the paltry fare that was shared by most of the families on board as they sat around communal tables near the ship's lower deck. Robert was rather bitter to be sitting with the commoners but due to the crew attending to the ship's care above, they refused to dine with him. He thought it was for other reasons.

Viola glanced up at him as she played with a little girl who sat next to her, fascinated with her bracelet. She actually tried hard to smile, but Wessex did not return the gesture.

As they returned to their tiny crawl space, they say very little to one another. Robert is quietly undoing his thigh-high leather boots in order to prepare for their bed on the floor, when he glances up to see Viola watching him.

"I am sorry for my behavior earlier," she whispers, a little somber but sounding as if she'd meant it.

He just gave her an undecided glance and then looked away.

"Two-fold apologies do much to heal wounds," Viola muttered, giving her husband a side look out of the corner of her eye as she began to undo the ties on her dress.

Robert stopped what he was doing to quickly observe her for a moment in contemplation, admiring the appearance of skin as one by one the ties were released. She'd never fully undressed in front of him and it left him admittedly flustered. He nervously replied…

"I have nothing to apologize for!"

She just laughed in a hollow manner.

"Is that so, Lord Wessex? I think not!"

"Yes it is – perhaps you have comment on that matter as well, good woman – as you often do on everything else!" He snarled, he could tell she was picking to fight with him and he wasn't one to back down from such moments.

"Oh yes, I have much to say on the matter!" She agreed.

She ceased what she was doing as she sat on her knees upon her tattered blankets that they often slept under. She looked him straight in the eye and could see the scowl immediately come to his face in anticipation of her fresh assault.

He held out his hands to dare her. "Then do so, pray tell!"

"I concede you have gone out of your way to do much to protect your interest over the last few days in my safety, after all – you can not allow anything to happen to me, lest word returns to my father and his funds to your hands stop flowing – but that does not forgive you the fact that you have brought me here! Why? Is it to revenge yourself upon me for slighting you at Will's performance at The Rose and leaving your side on the carriage ride back to your estate? If so, why bring my nurse into it as well?"

He shook his head in disbelief. "Do you ever listen to yourself? Do you think that is my motive in everything that I do? I think that were we all laid to rest, God willing in the ground and praised to heavens – we would still have the spectre of William Shakespeare's words to chant our way to the path to the gates of the hereafter. I see him here, even now when I look into your eyes. It's like he's never left and neither have you."

His words caused her mouth to hang open in surprise, she couldn't believe what he was saying. He raised his chin in indignation. Possibly slight regret.

He stood up then and began to pace back and forth in the hall of the great ship, pensively rubbing his hand along the back of his curly, brunette hair.

"Yes, you are correct!" He said at last. "I relish the chance to make you suffer as you had me suffer the humiliation of your kissing your darling poet on stage for all the world to see – and all I ever tried to do was give you a name, a good name – as you have come from common stock. You should show your gratitude! It is not as if you have performed your duties as it were! You have given little in return."

She looked up at him in shock. "I should be grateful for your favors then – is that it? Are you finished, sir? Shall we proceed?"

With that Viola began to rip the string from her bodice and was about to show him everything that had since been protected from his questing eyes when he reached over and arrested her wrists to stop her.

"Stop! Good woman, stop such nonsense!" He objected and let her go, as if her hands were burning coals.

The chilly expression in her eyes was one he had seen on numerous occasions. She put her hands down to her lap and dared not to move.

"I have a name," she responded, quietly.

"Pardon?" He barked, standing up again to pace once more.

"I said – I have…"

"I heard you the first time – I know of it!"

"Then why do not you not say it?"

"I have in the past," he grumbled.

"But you have not since our voyage began."

"There is no time for such utter…"

He was about to walk away from the conversation when she stopped him. "And where will you go? Who will you speak to of such things? The nurse? She has about as much respect for you as I do? The crew will not even talk to you any longer. Do you not wonder as to their reason?"

"Viola," he muttered, resentfully as he turned back towards her. "There, are you satisfied? You do not use mine as I recall."

"I do often Lord Wessex," she objected.

"I am not talking of my title – my name. I have one as well. If you are to be my wife, you should know it!"

She glared angrily up to him. "Very well – I will remember so – Robert."

"I would hope that when next you utter it you would not speak of it with such cruelty," he whispered, as if more to himself than to her. But, she heard him.

"And I you," she replied, softly.

For a moment, he glanced down at her. He stared at her, trying to fathom something in her eyes which he hoped was there, but knew it was too fervent a dream. Finally, he groaned audibly and sat back down in his spot alongside of her on the cold, damp floor that was barely covered by a well-used, goose down mattress. He looked over at her one last time.

"Goodnight – Viola."

"And goodnight to you, good – Robert."

She laid down under the blanket not far from where he was but a respectable distance when he heard him muttering something under his breath as he began to flail away next to her. In curiosity, she turned over once more to notice him fighting with the buttons and buckles of his boots.

Without a word spoken, she sat up and began to help him with it.

He tried to immediately object at the intrusion, but she held up her hand.

"Calm yourself, allow me good husband," she quietly replied.

He watched her in silence as she began to undo each button from the boots and unleash the buckle that held them in place, slowly peeling them from his long legs to expose his lily-white skin. He shivered visibly under her touch as her fingers grazed his ankle and foot. Falling forward slightly he found his nose in the crown of her loosened, flaxen hair. Closing his eyes, he inhaled the scent of her – how she smelled of flowers in this Godforsaken place he would never understand.

She felt the sensation and broke away in surprise.

He looked at her wide-eyed and vulnerable. There was that expression that had beguiled her before, one that left her uncertain of his mood. A look of fear.

Hissing a bit between his teeth, he threw aside what remained of his boots and pulled the blanket hard up over his shoulder, quickly lying down and ignoring her.

Her heart fell. It had been a moment, brief and frighteningly real and over…

Laying down beside him, but not too close – she turned on her side to face him, watching his back rise and fall, the strong square solidity of his shoulders casting hard shadows against the fading candlelight and the desire – that strange desire she'd felt before – of wanting to reach out and touch his deep, dark curls with her fingertips. She shook off the feeling, with a sense of betrayal to her darling Will before she closed her eyes to sense sleep at her beckon.


	3. Chapter 3

May 14, 1607

The day began as any other aboard the Godspeed, as once more Viola returned to the main deck to clear her head.

Her thoughts had been conflicted of late. On the one hand for certain – other than a few clipped and brusque responses, Robert had ceased talking to her during the day.

Though she could still feel his presence at night when in his state of slumber he'd found his way to crawl up behind her, no doubt restless in his sleep and nestle his face into her back. She'd even found on one occasion his arm had captured hold of her waist to bring her even closer. Startled by his actions, she turned to see him instead lost in dreamland. She couldn't help it – it made her smile. It was almost as if this secret side of his personage had fought to take over in the hours between night and day. It was this side that Viola found that despite her best defenses and stubborn hold on her hatred of him, that she found she was starting to grow fond of him – in a way. But, soon it was diminished as the daylight came in through the cracks in the rafters and his true nature returned to his countenance, but even that was unconvincing. Could it be that he was changing or was she?

She sat down upon a nest of large, coiled ropes near the side of the ship and closed her eyes, lost in thought.

The events aboard the ship and the crew carrying this vessel upon the sea had been one of challenge and heartbreak within the last month and a half now. She was acutely aware that even though Captain Gosnold had promised them great religious freedom and wealth in the new world that the here and now made the promises seem almost vacuous. Perhaps it had been an attempt to draw focus away from the fact that their food supplies were starting to run out and fresh water to drink was at a premium. Even the liquor they carried aboard her was starting to diminish. Then there was the good people starting to grow sick – no doubt from scurvy or some other equally cruel plight like dysentery.

Viola had been wise in making sure she'd shown little remorse stealing the odd orange here and there to make sure that not only did she have some to fight off disease but that her husband had his share as well, despite his distinct dislike of the fruit. He'd objected too to her insistence that garlic around their necks while sleeping at night would ward off illness – and yet, thank the heavens above they had been spared from this floating plague. It was nearly as bad as that – the Black Death.

She cringed as she relived the other horrors of their voyage thus far. As they rounded the Canary Islands at the beginning of the journey on the southbound trade winds that had welcomed them, there was talk of a mutiny on board that threatened to turn them back home. They had suggested throwing someone overboard when they found him, but through the insistence of mercy from his family, instead threw him in their makeshift gaol for a few days to clear his head alone.

"God, have mercy upon his soul, and please see kind to save us – all of us. Save us from this fresh hell. Take us to a land of promise, one that is beyond the horizon," Viola chanted quietly to herself.

"Amen to that, Lady Wessex for your kind words of insight," came a voice suddenly, interrupting her reverie.

She gasped and looked up to see Captain Gosnold standing over her, a kindly smile on his handsome face. He always had a peace about him that made him much older than his thirty years. She quite liked and admired him.

Smiling she answered. "Thank you."

"I apologize most sincerely, please – go back to your thoughts."

He backed away from her and joined his crew at the helm. She watched him for a moment and once more closed her eyes.

This time her thoughts once more settled back upon Robert. Happy thoughts decidedly, she could still feel his warmth against her back and how solid he felt. She hoped tonight he would be restless once again.

But, it was that same exact thought that sent a small shiver of guilt into the pit of her stomach. Was she betraying the man she loved who was still waiting no doubt for her in England?

He's married – so am I…

Her chin quivered as she fought back the tears…my Will, my love…

As her thoughts unsettled her mood, it was then she felt the most exquisite sensation – of something light as a feather drop upon her resting fingers.

Opening her eyes, she saw at first the bright sunlight blind her gaze before she lowered it to see a lone and beautiful butterfly fluttering on her hand.

She quietly smiled as she admired it. It had been ages since she'd seen one.

"Why hello there – where on earth did you come from? Aren't you lovely."

Suddenly, she saw a shadow appear to block out the sun momentarily and looked up to see the captain once again looking down at her.

"Is that?" He asked in amazement.

Quickly he crouched down to see it up close.

She held it up for him, the butterfly didn't move. "It is so beautiful, isn't it?"  
>The captain jumped up onto his feet and went running across to the side of the ship.<p>

"Yeoman! Get me my telescope at once!" He shouted out to a member of his crew.

The man did as he said and came running over to his side with the telescope in hand. The captain took it up and stretching it out, gazed upon the horizon.

It took a matter of mere moments when he suddenly yelled out.

"Land! I see land! Right starboard! Set sail for the east this instant!"

There was an excitement as the crew cheered for the first time since their launch and preparations were made to change course, the huge ship groaned as it moved around on it's own volition.

This was indeed joyous news and Viola's first thoughts went to Robert, she had to convey it to him as well.

Standing on her feet, she dashed across to lift the hatch and started down the steps to the lower decks. It took only a matter of a few minutes to find their spot near the stern of the ship, she grinned as she approached Robert who was lost in his own little world, busily crafting what looked like a leather pouch to wear with his handsome garments.

As she approached him, she became acutely aware of something moving in the shadows to her left. Stopping momentarily, she glanced up to see a glint of something and then she could make out a figure standing there, he seemed to be watching her husband.

The glint became more apparent as the figure got down low on his heels and then she could see it – it was a knife he held that glimmered in the lantern's flicker.

Her blood ran cold and a sharp intake of fear ran through her body, as did the adrenaline as she screamed out -

"Robert!"

The stranger turned at her cry and dove for her. Screaming again, her husband jumped to his feet.

Instead of hiding away and shielding herself, she fought back with every once of strength she possessed. Her arms hit bone and flesh as he grabbed a hold of her, trying to choke the living breath from her with a hand at her throat. She fought for the knife with a singular self-possession. Grunting, they struggled together. He raised his hand to hit her hard across the face and with it she could feel the knife's blade tearing at her brow. Falling to her knees, she sheltered her face at last, blood coating her fingertips as she cried out in pain.

Finally Robert reached the assailant and the men began to struggle above her, she was startled to hear a man scream. Looking up she could see the stranger grabbing on to his leg and limping away with blood running down his pant leg. She finally recognized the man. He was the man who nearly started the mutiny – why had he come to attack them of all aboard, she couldn't fathom.

But at this moment, she no longer cared.

Quickly rising to her feet, she ran up to Robert and found his arms go around her immediately to make sure she was in one piece and alright. She put her arms round his back and cried into his shoulder.

"Oh my husband, thank God you are alright!"

"Emery!" Robert grumbled, the man who had attacked him. "The bastard! He was trying to steal our sole possessions, mark my word. Are you…?"

"A scratch, a mere scratch," she replied to comfort his worry for her safety. But, her voice was shaking and he did not believe her.

"Here, come into the light, let me take a look at you," he insisted.

He lead her into their little living space and sat her down on the floor, gingerly.

As he inspected her wound which bled down across his knuckles and over the corner of her pretty eyes, he grimaced.

"Why must you be so impetuous!"

She wanted to say something in retribution, but kept her tongue as she knew he was right.

"Foolish, but appreciated," he muttered.

She smiled softly at him, until he said…

"I will have to mend it – do you have string, a needle and a candle?"

She looked at him, nervously and her face became pale.

"It will only hurt at first, I promise," he said, touching her shoulder.

She nodded, quietly. "In my apron in the corner."

"I have a brandy flask in my bag. I want you to consume some of it, it will help dull the pain."

(Moments later, after holding her darning needle over a flame of a candle, he was ready to set about mending her wound. He could see that Viola was lifting her chin one too many times as she drained most of his brandy in several swigs):

He took the flask from her.

"My Lord, easy woman – save some for later. There is no need to empty the entire contents down your throat!" He barked.

She started giggling for no reason and her face was distinctly cherry as blush warmed her cheeks. She leaned up against him and started playing with an errant curl that fell across his forehead, she twirled it around her fingertip before he batted her away. Clearly she was inebriated.

"Where does this come from?" She asked, not making much sense any more.

"I was right when I said that about you," he snarled in response.

"How do you mean?"

"Your mind really does 'hop about'."

She rolled her eyes. "Again – I ask you – where does this come from?"

"What?" He snarled, growing easily irritated by her insistent chattering.

"Your curls – who passed that on to you?"

He groaned, exacerbated. "My father."

"Thank him for me," she chirped and started giggling again. This time she put her entire hand up in his hair and began to stroke his scalp. It felt amazing.

"I would were he not dead."

She giggled in an absurd manner at his reply.

He closed his eyes as his pulse began to quicken, she just smiled up at him – delighted at his nervous response.

"You really are quite nice like this," she whispered, coming in a little closer so that he could feel her breath on his chin.

He glanced away quickly, trying to avoid her.

"Be still!" He snapped and grabbed her wrist to hold her.

She huffed in disappointment and then jumped as she could feel the needle barely graze her skin, it was hot like a poker.

"I barely touched you! If you would stop your incessant movement you would not feel it so much!" He scolded.

"I have no problem with you touching me," she blurted out and then realizing her words, she looked up at him with an expression very much like a child's.

He gave her an equally disquieted look in return. He had hoped she meant that.

"I mean – that is to say – with you mending my cut. Just give me some warning when you do so next time," she grumbled and averted her gray eyes.

"You must look up…" he instructed her, taking her chin in his hand so that he levelled her eyes to his. "Do you need something to bite down upon?"

"No," she said bravely. "Just do it, please and be quick about it. I will be fine."

"Very well, but I want no response from you otherwise. Understood?"

She just nodded. Taking her cheek in his palm, he turned her face upwards so that he could see it better in the light.

"If I do not complain, may I be permitted to still talk?"

He was about to prick her brow when he looked at her with disdain.

"I have a feeling were I to say no you would persist anyhow. Go ahead."

She gave him a dirty look.

"As I was about to say, I think I know the reason that the crew have declined our presence currently at their table."

"Oh is that so?" He replied, the tone of his voice clearly showing that it was a topic for conversation he wished not to discuss. "And what has your research revealed? That I am not wealthy or established enough to break bread with them?"

She looked surprised. "No, not at all. It's because they think you're an atheist."

He jumped at her words and in that, he fumbled with the needle that instantly pierced her skin a little too much at first approach.

She cried out in surprise. "Oww – good husband, please take a care!"

"What do you mean that they think I'm an atheist – what ever gave them that idea?" He cried and put the needle down, he didn't even notice she was starting to bleed again. But, when he realized she was, he swiped her brow with a handkerchief.

"They are devout, and as you often attended while they were in prayer and joined in – they thought you were too. Until one day when you arrived late for supper and sat down to eat without praying first. They were so dismayed at your utter lack of respect that they wanted nothing more to do with you and so banished you to eat with the common folk below deck."

He seemed beside himself, totally neglecting his duty at hand.

"Unbelievable!"

"Apparently…are you going to finish mending me or shall I do it myself. I fear my hand is not as steady at the moment."

She started to giggle again and fell into him a bit. "Oh I think I feel a bit tipsy."

He steeled himself and grasped her arm. "Stay still!"

The anger was evidenced in his voice and she feared he'd hurt her out of his sullen mood. But, he was surprisingly gentle as he slowly entered the hot needle into the tender skin of her brow.

She gritted her teeth and squeezed her hands together in her lap as she fought against crying out, as her eyes closed. It was only the first stitch and already it was proving excruciating. More so for him as he hated to see her in this much pain, but he didn't let on what was coming over him.

He did another stitch and again she sat trying hard not to show any pain.

"You do well, good wife," he whispered.

After several agonizing minutes, he successfully closed the wound and as he tied it off, he leaned forward with his mouth to chew off the end of the string. When he did she felt the most surprising sensation – that of him also leaning in to kiss her forehead in concern.

She looked up and noticed how close they were at present as his blushing face was so near to hers…then the thing she least expected happened. She found herself gradually moving closer, her hand pensively touching his upper leg for support. And…this time – he didn't stop her…

Her lips found his and for the first time in their married life together, they shared a kiss between them. Tenderly she found his lips devoured hers. Not the hurried, bruising kiss when he took her unaware after announcing her father had bought him for her – this was different, much different. He almost seemed fearful that she would break if he kissed her too hard, so she took the initiative and urged his lips to part. He could feel the taste of her tongue against his lower lip when finally he drew away in shock.

"There, you should be fine now – though it be day, I think you should rest."

As soon as he released her, her eyes suddenly went back in her head from the previous shock of the makeshift surgical procedure and fell in a dead weight to the floor of the cabin.

He looked down at her and rolled his eyes at her.

"I see, we can't even have one normal moment, can we?" He growled in frustration.

Moving down under her, he lifted her up in his arms and manuevering Viola under the blankets on the floor, he laid her down across his chest so that her cheek was nestled against him. She murmured lightly in her sleep. He played with her hair this time, admiring the gold strands on his fingertips as the candlelight began to fade and he too fell asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

(Two hours have passed):

A jolt awoke him, as he nearly hit his head on the oak beam behind their sleeping quarters on the floor when the ship underneath them moved forward and he didn't.

Opening his dark hazel eyes, he blinked hard to find out where the disruption was coming from. As he did, he grasped Viola tighter in his arms and shielded her head against his chest. The ship was rolling but not on water, he ascertained this immediately.

There could only be one reason for this…

"Land! We're on dry land!" He exclaimed with a sharp intake of breath. "Thank the Lord above!"

The feeling of protectiveness towards Viola went out the window at that moment as he sat up without thinking and she fell to the floor like a rag doll. And yet, she slept on – possibly still under the effects of the brandy.

He jumped to his feet, leaving her behind as he made a run for the deck.

Moments later, she awoke to a swirling sensation in her brain. Yet she was lucid enough to make it to her own feet. She looked about her for Robert or even her nurse, but realized that they were nowhere to be found.

"Hello? Anyone?" She cried out and then she noticed it – or lack of it – movement under her feet.

Her eyes shot upwards towards the ceiling. Now she remembered.

Lifting her skirts, she dashed for the stairs.

When she came up aboard the deck, she saw Robert standing next to her nurse with several members of the ship peering anxiously over the side at something as they gestured, animatedly.

She ran over to stand between them.

"Look, wife, look below you!" Robert exclaimed, as moving his arm around her waist, he lifted her slightly so she could see more clearly.

There it was – glorious land. A rush came over her as she saw all around her a perfectly golden beach, lapped by water from underneath the stern of the ship. As her gaze rose to take in the horizon she could see woods, grass and wilderness for as far as the eye could see. She felt tears well up inside and she suddenly grasped her husband's arm in excitement.

"We have made it!" She cried, excitedly and as she looked up at him, he did the most remarkable thing – he smiled at her – actually smiled at her. It was genuine and real.

She smiled back and then turned to hug her nurse as the robust woman welcomed her into her arms.

"This is truly a blessed thing!" The nurse said in her ear.

"I agree!" Viola replied and cried a little in joy.

Suddenly the captain's shouting broke their momentary reverie.

"A search party! We require a search party – we need six good men to join us in a small boat, we will go on ahead and survey the land and then once we have deemed it safe we will return to allow everyone to disembark! Do I have any volunteers?"

"Here!" Robert said, raising his hand and waving it to get everyone's attention.

Viola looked a little nervous about his overeagerness. She turned to him and whispered.

"Robert! Are you certain you wish to do this?"

He glared down at her, his disapproving countenance returning. "We have made it this far and you still doubt me?"

"No, it's not that – it's just…"

"Just what?" He barked, growing impatient.

"Perhaps it would be better you avoid them insisting you go to the front, lest they push you out as the sacrificial lamb because they can't stand you – if something goes wrong."

He couldn't believe her words. Shoving her away from him as he walked past to ignore her cold-hearted response, he immediately joined the captain.

"My dear, how could you say something like that?" The nurse hissed, her tone unusually chilly. "Even if it is he that you speak of?"

Viola lowered her head. "I do not know what came over me. I just – I am worried for him. I just couldn't tell him I was."

"Well he is right there still yet – go tell him now."

"I cannot!"

She looked up to stare into Robert's impossibly dark eyes that glared hard into hers and she felt like a fool.

"Do as you wish, child!" The nurse muttered and wandered off to talk to her friend that she'd met on board.

Viola felt incredibly alone at that moment, as she glanced up – feel the heat on her cheek and the back of her neck from her humiliation – she noticed he was still staring at her, but his eyes had shifted a bit and his expression was less severe. Now it was hard to fathom what was going through his mind, there was a disquieted look he was giving her – one that made her want to forget the vow she'd just given herself and instead go to him to apologize. Such a look of longing.

She felt the tears come back to her eyes, no longer tears of joy – but of conflicting feeling and guilt.


	5. Chapter 5

(The search party formed and departed in small boats anchored to the side of the taller ship. They didn't have far to go to reach the shoreline. They were careful to bring along muskets as well as tools to explore their surroundings):

Viola had felt dread as soon as Robert had volunteered to go ashore. But, as she saw her husband arming himself she truly felt fear for him. At last she quietly came to his side as he was about to wrap a compass in a bag. He turned to feel her arms go around his waist, he knew this was her way of apologizing. But, he did not return the gesture as he simply moved away from her and joined the others in the boat launch. It was only minutes before he made it onto dry land. He seemed ungainly on his feet for a moment, but then soon followed the group.

She stood patiently and watched in muted silence as they marched determinedly along, keeping their wits about them and listened carefully for anything that they might come across.

Viola tried to still her beating heart as they disappeared from view. The nurse saw the dread in her lovely eyes and walked over to take her elbow in reassurance.

That was until they heard a shot being fired from off in the distance.

"No!" Cried Viola, jumping at the sound.

She could feel the nurse's grip tighten on her arm as both women looked fearfully out towards the surrounding forest.

It seemed forever before they heard shouting and the men emerged. There were two men injured that were being helped along by the others. She was grateful to see Robert was running behind them – quite alright and in one piece, but a look of wild fright in his eyes.

They were waving frantically for help as they held the red and white British flag high above their heads to signal the boats still bobbing on the water to come to shore to retrieve them. The men who were wounded collapsed in the sand which started to turn red with their blood and clutching their side.

Viola felt so helpless, she couldn't do anything but watch on in horror.

After about an hour, they managed to board the ship again.

She ran to Robert, but he simply said "Savages! Damned savages, everywhere!"

He brushed her aside and sat down on a step leading up to the captain's ship wheel and looked totally defeated. Viola said nothing as she dropped to his side on the step and began to sweep his feverish brow tenderly with her hand. He turned docile and closed his eyes to her touch.

"Men, do not let this deter our efforts. We will journey onward. This was just not our place, it belongs to them. We will go inland to the west. Let us depart at once. And tonight, we will decide upon our council!" Captain Gosnold declared triumphantly as he arrived on deck.

Everyone looked a little weary, barely acknowledging them as they rushed to the injured men's aid. The ship's doctor attended the men as Master Hunt who had only recently recovered from illness himself prayed for their well being.

The captain came over and laid his hand compassionately on Robert's shoulder and whispered to him. "You did good, man. I was proud to have you at my side!"

Wessex's eyes turned upwards in surprise. It was more than a mere compliment and he knew it – it was an acceptance. He braved him a smile.

He turned to his wife and whispered. "Westward?"

"Westward!" She confirmed and grinned.

(The ship turned towards the west as promised and by nightfall they had made it to where the mighty rivers met as they made it inland along the flow of strong bay – they took the river to the right and decided then and there to name it the James River after their king. They would set up camp here for the night as the search party went ahead and found the area peaceful):

As they set up their tents on the shore with their families and made a large bonfire in the middle to fix a steadfast and much needed supper, it was resolved that someone would stand guard in shifts that night, just in case trouble arose.

Again Robert showed his mettle as he volunteered to take up one of the watches.

Viola cringed a bit but actually admired his courage for a moment and said nothing out of respect to him. He felt reassured when she did.

That night, as Viola made up their bed within the tent, she listened to Robert pacing nearby, a musket slung over his shoulder – causing a strange shadow to appear as if it were mutating his form.

Peering out the flap of the tent, she stared up at him.

"Robert, do you need sustenance?"

He glanced down at her in slight irritation. "Go to sleep!"

"I have no need to at the moment."

"Then do be quiet, wife!" He snapped and began to pace again.

She began to dig in his bag near her hip and produced the brandy flask he'd offered her early. She came back out and produced it to him. He just ignored her.

"It will warm you, it is a cold night for this time of the year. Take it!"

Finally he bent down and for a moment decided to try something on for size.

"I thank thee!"

She gave him a weird look as the clearly Puritan words seemed strange on his lips. She tried hard not to, but soon her face broke out in a huge smile of amusement.

He didn't look the slightest impressed by her response.

"Just….here!" He snarled and held out his hand to grab the flask from her fingers.

She decided it was perhaps more polite to hide herself back in the tent, but she was clearly heard giggling from inside.

It wasn't a second later when he came up alongside it and kicked at her slightly inside in irritation.

"Robert!" She cried out a bit in shock.

Now he smiled and resumed his shift.

When after about two hours a man came to place his hand on Robert's shoulder to trade his watch for his, he retired to his tent next to Viola. He didn't look over to see if she was awake or not as he removed his basic garments down to his pants and billowy white shirt to crawl in beside his wife. He laid there with his back against hers and tried to steady his breathing. It had already proven to be a trying day and he knew it was truthfully the start of many to come.

"Goodnight," he heard a quiet, feminine whisper.

He sighed and replied. "Goodnight."

He pulled the blanket up over his shoulder and felt it tugged around her shape on the other side. Closing his eyes, he let sleep bid him rest as he knew that as long as he had her beside him that was all he needed at the moment to find his peace.


	6. Chapter 6

(The next few days were trial and error for the new colonists):

The very first task was as mentioned deciding on which members would head up the first council to govern the group. The names were voted upon and then drawn. Once they were, the decisions were made and that was that.

Viola was shocked to see Emery's name amongst them, that's when Robert confessed to her quietly that he'd lied about the man's name – it was actually John Smith, a traitor to the 'Company' as he stated, who tried mutiny aboard the Godspeed in order to take it over when he decided his edicts were more sound than that of Captain Gosnold. But, why had he tried to rob them. Robert didn't know the answer to this as he knew he was a very highly reserved and regarded man back home. He said that perhaps the heat and unsanitary conditions of his time in the hold of the ship had driven him to temporary insanity. Either way, Viola felt insecure knowing he would lead them in this new land.

Next it had to be decided who would do what. It was voted on early that the men would partake of the heavy labor and the women would do the more basic duties. Viola didn't like that ruling but knew she had little choice in the matter.

Before they decided upon housing for each of the members of the Virginia Company, they had to build a fortification to protect against the natives that they knew were still amongst them, in fact you could feel many more eyes upon them every moment of the day – they were definitely not alone, that much was apparent. Were they friendly? Would they try to kill them as they did when the first touched land? Or perhaps it would be the passing Spanish ships, had they not travelled this far up the peninsula no doubt they would have been noticed and attacked at once.

Viola was beginning to despise Virginia with a deep, unabiding passion; she wished often she were back home safe and sound in England – despite the religious and political unrest she found so disturbing of late in the place she once recognized – at least it was still home.

What Robert didn't convey to her was the same belief. Though he was more determined now than every to prove to himself and to her that he could do as he promised, make his holdings here prosper and with it her respect for him would grow. It may have been foolish pride, but it was all he had. Wasn't he at least courageous for making it thus far?

As he stood tall with this thought in mind, Viola looked up at him as she sat on a nearby tree stump while members of the colony talked nearby.

How different he looked now. Gone were the embroidered, colorful garb he wore with his gold-embossed buttons and respectable ruff that always looked a little too tight around his handsome, arrogant face. He was still handsome though, even now – but perhaps a little more weathered. He had on a wide-brimmed brown hat with a large black feather fluttering in the breeze above his head that seemed to bear the pride of the wearer, his dark amber curls slipping out beneath the brim. His high cheekbones and stern, but steady gaze made her breath hitch in her throat a little. He rubbed his well-manicured goatee and bushy moustache as he surveyed the woods nearby like an explorer of yore, she felt a smile tug at the corner of her lips at the observation. As she continued to watch him, she could feel the back of her neck burn slightly and she wondered what was coming over her.

His ruff was still there, but much less starchy – looser, white cotton tied around his neck and down to a billow shirt that opened a little bit to show a few dark hairs upon his fine-toned breast. He wore a dark chestnut, suede vest that was finely made and detailed, with the shoulders puffed a bit and padded to accentuate the detail. Down along his narrow waist he carried his supplies – his compass, his flask, a few other tools with his new pouch and his musket snuggled into his side. His slightly-flared, brown leather chaps were met at the knee by his favored knee-high tanned boots. She remembered touching them, they were soft like a calf, so was his skin...

She grinned now and finally he turned to look at her. She found herself blushing wildly despite herself as she looked away.

He seemed shocked as he observed her at that moment – was she staring at him? Though he instantly knew she wasn't smiling at him as some sort of joke at his expense – this was a different look – could it be?

He felt his heart beating a little faster and then pushed away the thoughts. No, that wasn't possible. He mustn't lead himself to believe such things…he had long resolved that she was here only out of obligation.

Viola was searching for something to watch other than Robert as the feelings coming over her were ones she wasn't accustomed to. She loved Will. She loved Will.

The more she told herself those words, the further away he seemed. It was almost at times that she had to force herself to even remember his face now and it scared her. Was it only because Lord Robert Wessex was simply in the here and now that she had deceived herself into forgetting?

Standing up, she wandered away for a moment to council her own thoughts. Robert stayed close however, but within fair distance to mind her safety. This was a dangerous land where anything could happen, he knew that.

As he watched, Viola suddenly stopped and then she stared out at the world around her.

That's when the realization finally hit her.

He lied.

He had lied about everything…

Turning to him, the look she gave him with the cold and bitter expression on her face was one he had become more familiar with as without a word she ran past him, pushing him away as he tried to reach for her.

Even her nurse couldn't stop her as she ran back for the tents nearby alone.

After a few moments of wrestling with the decision to even care what she thought or not and the nurse giving him a lecture – he finally realized it was far better to confront his wife, than to hear her nurse's constant nagging him into action.

He found her sitting on the ground in her fine, peach colored gown, picking apart the white scarf around her hair so that it fell loosely to her shoulders. He couldn't voice how beautiful she was at that precise moment because her anger was palatable.

"Do – do not speak to me! You are the last person I wish to see right now!" She warned him, without turning to face him. She threw down her scarf and began to put some of her belongings into a bag, obviously making a rudimentary attempt to pack.

"What do you think you are doing?"

"Did you not hear me – I do not wish to talk to you! Go away!"

"You are my wife and you are embarrassing me in front of the other members! Come back at once!" He barked, unable to reign in his anger as well.

She glared up at him. Her face immobile, it was always scary to him when she gave him that look.

"Is that really what I am? Or is this all some sort of elaborate fantasy you have developed for yourself? This is all a dream isn't it? Nothing is real to you! Nothing – I can abide with you lying to me – but not to my father and mother? That is unforgivable!"

He knew she had meant his story of plantations in Virginia and his vast fortune. He seemed guilty for a moment.

"What? At a loss for words at last? Or is it because everything I just said is true? Why should I ever believe anything you have to say ever again?"

She stood up and came right up to him, he seemed frightened of her for a moment but tried to stay calm.

"I still cannot believe that I had the chance to be truly happy and free in England and you stole it from me! Why? Just tell me why? Why drag me here – why drag my nurse here? To save face? So where are these great plantations of yours then? Maybe we should go visit them right now! There isn't any, is there?"

"There will be," he muttered, looking indignant.

"What was that?"

"I said – there will be!"

"Where? Out here – on my father's fortune? He had none or very little – well, he does so now, thanks to you! But, why me?"

"Not this again!" He snapped and tried to walk away from her to observe the great ships bobbing and weaving on the waves off in the distance. She followed him.

"Why did you pick me? But, this time – do not wax poetic about my lips and eyes – tell me the real reason!"

"You are only happy if I am belittled and stomped under your pretty toe, aren't you?" He whispered without facing her.

She stopped and looked at him quizzically. "What?"  
>"Nothing…forget it! I said nothing!"<p>

"I do not wish to forget this – I want to discuss this!"

He faced her head on and walked up to her so quickly she nearly stumbled backwards. He began waving his arms in front of her face as he gestured broadly.

"All you ever want to do is talk – talk about everything! You are never happy with anything that I try to do on your behalf, even by half measures! Unless I am the God in your eyes, I do not shine down upon you! I am only too well aware of it, dear lady! You have never given me the time of day or even a chance to win your favor. No man stands a hope in hell against a memory!"

Now she was fairly shaking with rage as she crossed her arms and dug her feet into the sand as she said. "You always were such an arrogant…!"

She kept her tongue as she shook her head and closed her eyes, but he knew what she was going to say.

"Forget it! Fine! You want so badly to return to England and your beloved wordsmith – go! You have my blessing!" He answered as he bent down and threw her bag across the beach. Her belongings flew everywhere.

"Have you tired of my presence and at the sight of me already?" She hissed as she ran over to collect her trinkets now buried amongst the pebbles and threatened of being washed away in the surf.

"That could never happen!" He grumbled.

She looked up at him in surprise as he stood there defiantly on the beach.

"Just the sound of you!" He added as he turned on his heel and bitterly walked away without another word of rebuttal from her.

She knew then that everything she'd ventured to feel towards him in any sort of regard at that moment had vanished in smoke before her eyes.

The old Lord Robert Wessex had made a second coming.

She sat down in the sand and felt defeat.


	7. Chapter 7

(Days yawned on into weeks, Viola had made little effort in communicating with Robert and he did likewise with his wife. Which made things all the more difficult – particularly for those around them that were counting on everyone doing their fair share and acting as a team to build the fortification before winter came):

As July approached, the heat was noticeable. No longer the temperate and cool winds basking them from the East – now the realization that they weren't in England any longer struck them as they swiped their brow and fought off the waves of petulant insects that took delight in biting them all day until they were red and sore, covered in welts.

Captain Gosnold voiced his concern over the water supply and soon disputes started to rage amongst the other council members as he made a point of saying that it was possible it would be a carrier for malaria if the mosquitos continued to spawn in the still water that was left out too long.

John Smith scoffed at him, calling him ignorant, saying that malaria did not exist this far west. But, truly he was unsure of his words. They knew little beyond the borders of the world they used to know.

The women spent most of the day fetching food from the forest, with one man accompanying them in case the natives made an appearance during their forays. Surprisingly at this point it had been decidedly peaceful with little to hinder them. They cooked the meals, washed the men's clothes and did a lot of the work in tending the fields that were starting to show signs of buds – a promise of a crop possibly for the fall, if they were fortunate. Though it was only a clumsy attempt at agriculture, it did show promise.

One day, Viola's nurse who was resting after bathing some of the family's children in a nearby stream, sat upon a nearby overturned log and observed the men folk nearby putting up large wooden posts to lay the groundwork for the fort that was to be.

She watched Robert in the distance, often trying to take command and being scoffed at by the elders. They seemed to laugh slightly as they walked away, condescending in their manners as they did. She shook her head. But, as she continued to survey the scene before her, she saw her lord go over to the men a little more green to building and unsure of themselves and assist them. He showed them how to set up the proper angle for the posts and how to tie them together so that they rose without much effort straight and proud out of the ground. She had to admire his fortitude. He really did know what he was doing when given half the chance.

She sat and pondered if not Viola would benefit from the scene she was observing more than she. The girl could certainly be stubborn sometimes. Though the man was far from perfect with his prickly attitude and caustic approach – she knew that he did have those odd moments when he almost redeemed himself.

But, she was in love with a man still on the other side of the ocean – a man married to someone else, who never truly would have been hers with or without Lord Wessex. Perhaps she should have been grateful for…

Then he was yelling again – Lord knew what had incensed him, he was looking thoroughly insulted with John Smith who told him to leave at once. Disgruntled he looked up and saw her sitting upon the log.

She wanted to get up and head back to the camp at once, but was surprised to see him approaching her. The nurse was sure that she was the last person he'd ever talk to if given a choice, but he was coming straight for her.

Sitting down next to her with a look of indignance on his face, he didn't look over at her as he said.

"All I wish to do is give my insight and assistance and this is the thanks I get!" He raged.

The nurse just sat there numb, her hands in her lap as the cowl on her head blew a bit in the breeze. He glanced over at her.

"You may speak, you know," he muttered. "That is if you have anything of which to add to the conversation, otherwise you may leave."

"What would you like me to say, my lord?"

"Tell me your honest opinion. Do you have one, nursie or are you simply a sheep like the rest of them?"

"Sheep?"

"Yes, following the blind path of our beloved savior – John Smith!"

His comment was distinctly sarcastic.

"I did – notice you offering your help to that one lad. I think that was very noble of you," she whispered, seemingly embarrassed at the conversation.

"I agree – why cannot see it?"

"Perhaps they do not understand – compassion," she almost chocked on the last words, she couldn't believe she was actually referring him as that.

"Thank you, nurs…what is your name? This is such a inconvenience!"

"My name?" She mumbled, looking shocked he'd actually think to ask her. He had never spoken to her as such before.

"Yes – you do have one, do you not?" He barked, she looked up into his brilliant brown eyes and was a bit speechless for a moment. Even now he intimidated her. But, somehow – they seemed to soften for a bit, and she braved a response.

"Cordelia."

"Cordelia – thank you."

She found a little smile tugging at her lips and let it rise to her face. He almost smiled in return before his eyes shot back up to the men as one of them dropped a post loudly on the ground.

"What a bunch of fools we have to bare up to. Back to our labors I see. Tell your mistress, my wife that I will be for dinner at half past my normal time tonight."

With that he rose again and walked back resolutely to work on the walls of the fort, even though John Smith was glaring at him angrily the whole time.

Nurse Cordelia had found a tiny place for her lord in her heart and knew that she would do what she could to soften her lady's heart as well – even if it took a little longer to do so.

(The next few days proved to be a test for both Viola and Robert, both trying to dare each other to make some sort of comment or take notice of one another. It was obviously a provocation for attention):

As Robert was watching for any sort of movement in the woods while standing guard one night, one of the other men in the camp laughed as he came over to him and laid his arm around him in a manner that was much too familiar for his liking.

"So my good man, did you not hear the news of your wife today?"

He tried to brush him aside as even cocking his gun seemed to make little influence. "What of my wife?"

"How she brought food for the men aboard the ships, and when they found their labours grew too long, thus she began to help them with carrying supplies and tying down the mast for them. It was a sight to behold, let me assure you."

Wessex' eyes turned into slits as his anger grew upon the other man's pronouncement. He didn't take the news kindly.

"She said that you forbade her from such activity. We had to laugh – she told us she was to remain submissive, modest, grateful and brief. Did you really say such things to her?"

He gritted his teeth as he turned away when the man brought him in closer.

"You should be the one kowtowing to her, she is a remarkable woman."

"Do not speak to me in such tones, you should know your place!" Robert snarled at last, shoving his arm from around him.

"Yes, I can see you saying such things to that woman – be wary, my lord for it will come back to haunt you!" the younger man warned as he walked off in the distance with a smirk. "Two fold!"

Robert sat there fuming silently, then snarled.

"Oh it will – but not for me!"


	8. Chapter 8

(As promised, a week passes and Viola is out tending to a small field nearby when she sees a little girl come up to her, pleasantly playing and passing the day):

"Oh hello there, do you have any flowers you are growing?" the little girl asked as she walked up to her and watched her going about her duties.

"Sorry, I do not – this is tobacco, have you ever heard of that?"

"No, what is that?"

"Well, perhaps your father will tell you of that someday," Viola said, amused at her curiosity.

The little girl sat down in the grass nearby and began to pluck at the weeds.

"My father said you were the wife of a lord. I didn't know our Lord was allowed to marry, is he not up in the sky?"

Viola began to giggle at her innocence. "No, not our Lord above – Lord Wessex."

"He is handsome!" she gushed.

This made Viola laugh even more. "Yes, he is."

She was surprised to her herself saying it now, and yet – she knew it was admitting what was true. She smiled at the thought.

"And funny, he was telling us jokes about you and your father who looks like a walrus around the table today. He made me laugh!"

Viola looked up at her, she could feel ire rise as she listened to her. "Really?"

"Yes, because he says he lies around all day while your mother does the work. Is that really true? He also said that was what a woman was supposed to do, so that was OK. Will I have to do that some day too? I like to play too much."

She bit her lip, trying not to say anything against the little girl who obviously was only a messenger to Robert's vitriol. She just shook her head, dropping what she was doing she walked across the field to where she knew folks liked to gather to drink over wine and food.

It didn't take long to find him. He looked up at her as soon as he did, a knowing smirk on his face that was pure evil.

"Ah, there she is now, gentleman – your remarkable woman indeed! I think we should saint her next – oh that is false of me, how foolish – women can't be saints, can they now?"

Everyone in the group from council member to commoner amongst the singular masculine representation at the table chortled in delight at his pithy comments – all except for Viola who stood there, her arms across her chest glaring down at him with anger in her eyes.

"Wife, be good and go make us some more bread as we are running short and be quick about it – and also another bottle of this fine wine!" Robert said, snickering as he held up an empty bottle to her.

She just ignored him. "I should think you can find that well on your own, my lord!"

"Excuse me? I told you to bring me some bread and wine! Now!" he barked, his command uttered through his teeth as he glared hard at her.

"And I told you to get it yourself!" she snarled in response.

Now the men made faces at her response as they listened with obvious amusement at the growing tempo of the argument at hand. This was indeed the most entertainment they'd had all day.

He stood up and tried to look intimidating. Viola tried to stand her ground when her nurse appeared in concern to just a little over Wessex' shoulder and begged her to calm herself.

"Ah, nursie – now here is a woman of good standing and reputation. She knows her place. But then my dear wife Viola is very close to her, she knows her better than her own mother or so I have heard. Do you not, my dear?"  
>Viola rolled her eyes and didn't respond.<p>

"Why you probably even could refer to her by her first name if you wished, could you not wife?"

She looked up in confusion, not sure what he was insinuating.

The nurse grimaced and looked away, she could see that he'd somehow suckered her into this little ploy of his and she didn't like it.

"Go on, Viola – what is your nurse's first name? I have always been curious to it as well."

Viola still wouldn't answer him.

"Is it because you do not know? Here I was thinking you trusted each other and does this mean you have never asked her? How little you think of her!"

Now she was flush, and she closed her eyes bitterly as she took the bottle from his hand.

He leaned in close to rub it in as she knew he'd won – this time, the echo of laughter from the men around him made it even more numbing.

"Her name is Cordelia. Is that not right, nursie?" he said, leaning back to look at the older woman.

"You are being a child!" the nurse hissed at him as she walked past to take her mistress' arm and lead her away from the rudeness around them.

Lord Wessex simply continued to laugh as the insults continued even when they were nearly out of earshot.

"My heart be still the splendor of your presence, for it is like a light that shines down upon me as it warms me in the cool of the day and basks me in it's glory in the darkness of the night when I rest my head down upon my pillow…"

Viola stopped walking for a moment as she heard him. Where was this from? Poetry? From Lord Robert Wessex?

It was mocking – and yet – it was his and it was poetry. She could scarcely believe it.

As soon as he realized that he was effecting her with his words, he stopped and watched her. Suddenly he ignored the laughing around him and sat down without another word.

But, her nurse – Cordelia – ignored her hesitation and pulled her along with her. "Come on girl, let us leave this place!"

(The next morning, she felt Robert move next to her in the tent and she knew he was about to go off to bath before the day in the rudimentary stall that was built to give the colonists privacy – it primarily consisted of a bucket, some water warmed over a fire before hand and for those who could bare it – cold water to brace themselves and soap brought with them from England):

But Viola decided that morning to add an extra element. As she rose out of her bed without changing, she slipped out back to where the women kept their tools to wash the clothes. She spotted the white dye they often used to make the shirts extra brilliant – this was particularly essential for the men. Perhaps an all over body dye would be proper treatment for Lord Wessex.

She grinned to herself and skirted around back of their settlement in nothing but her nightgown and just beyond into the woods. She tried hard to keep her footing as she wore nothing upon her feet, the rocks and the branches poking her as she made her way along – she was desperate to not let the footfall sounds of shoes betray her. She finally found the stall just near the treeline and she could hear Robert singing inside as he titled the bucket above the wooden enclosure. He gasped a bit as the lukewarm water hit his skin.

She grinned and held the bottle of dye tightly in her fingers. He would never mock her again after this, of that she was certain.

As she inched closer to find a perfect vantage point to add the dye to his bucket – she noticed the stall door was ajar slightly.

Out of curiosity she stepped closer and noticed that she could see inside. She inhaled sharply – there in plain view was her husband. All of her husband. Though he had his back to her, her eyes took in the length of his strong back that moved with him as he lifted his soap under his arm to lather up. Her eyes traveled down along the smooth curve of his narrow hips to the dimples just on his lower torso and down to his tight buttocks flexing as he stepped forward. His long legs she was familiar with. His pale skin glowed in the morning light.

Suddenly her skin began to feel flush and she forgot what she'd come this far for as her hand dropped. She could feel her heart begin to flutter a bit in her chest as she continued to watch the amazing sight in front of her with muted silence.

She got a silly grin on her face as she continued to watch how beautiful he looked like that, enjoying his own world and lost in song as his body moved eloquently whilst he did.

Robert turned around to begin to wash his chest and stomach, his eyes still closed and as he did Viola gasped aloud as she observed the rather impressive specimen between his thighs that caused her to completely lose her grip on her weapon of revenge in her hand onto the ground.

His eyes shot open at the sound, his instincts going into overdrive thinking it was perhaps one of the savages only to see his wife instead standing there gawking at him, her face as red as a rose as it was obvious she was staring down at his nether regions.

"My Lord!" he cried out, shielding himself with his hands as best as he could, cowering slightly against the corner of the stall, wet and humble. "Wha – what do you think you are doing?"

Viola didn't know what to say or do, she just stood there in embarrassment and looking for somewhere to flee. As she did, Robert ran forward, abruptly grabbing her and pulling her into the stall with him. He quickly shut the door behind them.

She was startled by his reaction, not sure what his exact intentions were and thinking immediately she'd gone too far when he pushed her flat up against the side wall and pressed his body into hers. As he did, the bucket tipped over above them and covered the both of them with a good soaking of water.

Viola tried to cry out, but Robert hastily covered her entire mouth with his palm.

"Shhh – stay still, don't breathe! Something is out there!" he hissed into her ear as he nestled his cheek against hers.

Her eyes opened wide in shock. It was true, there was a distinct crunch of branches and leaves just outside where they stood.

No doubt it was a native and their lives would be in immediate danger if they were found out.

As they stood there, frightened and praying they would survive this discovery, he noticed she was beginning to shiver. He couldn't help but look down to see why and he found his eyes taking in much more than he imagined. Her naked form was clearly visible through the transparency of her nightgown, made diaphanous by the dampness that clung to her. Her pert, shapely breasts were lightly tickling his rib cage and he tried to look away, but couldn't – particularly as his gaze ventured even further downwards along her flat tummy to between her -

Viola watched him with a little shiver of anticipation. How hungry his eyes seemed, how she wanted him to see her like this but never had the courage. How close he was standing – so close it was driving her wild.

As he tried hard to avert his dark eyes and resist the temptation racing through his blood as much as the immediate threat to their safety lurking just outside should the barest trace of a sigh of frustration escape his lips, he nearly jumped as the sensation of her hand snaking around his bare waist brought his attention back to the here and now – and the lovely visage of her face before him, laid mute by his own hand.

She carefully ran her fingers up his waist, to feel the texture of his dimples on his lower back over and over again until he had to bite down on his lip at the touch and up his back to urge him to stand closer up against her. He found he couldn't help himself at this point and he didn't want to – he was dying to touch her as well, and he did as his hand found it's way around her tiny hips to cup just below her rounded buttocks and pull her to him even more as he moved forward pressing her back into the wall and with it the pressure of his naked body so that she couldn't escape his weight over her. She could feel his breathing grow quick and his heart pounding away against her breast as he placed his cheek against hers and finally bury his nose into her shoulder in desperate relief. It was then that she could feel something unmistakable making itself known as it grew and pressed into her lower stomach. She knew what it was.

Her eyes grew as big as his as he drew away from her slightly to stare at her. Finally a tiny moan was impossible to hold back as it escaped his lips. She quickly covered his own mouth with her hand and held him against her in a near embrace as she tried to stand still. He kissed the palm of her hand. This time Viola moaned under his hand and returned the muted kiss to his own.

But her body had other ideas as the lovely sensation of him against her belly grew and she began to find herself rubbing up against it. Her hand moved away from his back to reach down and gently relieve him somewhat as she touched it in curiosity.

Then the noise outside the shed stopped as immediately as it had started.

It was Robert's queue to escape as things were growing too intense for him to handle, he knew that he would take her up against the wall of this stall if he didn't take matters into his own hands. Moving quickly away from her, he gave her one last look of longing before he abruptly left and disappeared back into the woods towards the encampment.

Viola was left standing there, looking down at her hand and over her body that only moments before he had touched with his own and lost as to what had almost happened.

Sinking down onto the ground, she hugged herself and looked up at the sky in bewilderment as she shivered – not from the cold, but from the passion that rushed through her veins.


	9. Chapter 9

(Over two weeks pass and the already strained relations between Lord and Lady Wessex became much more noticeable, to the concern in particular of her nurse, whom she had since taken up sharing her tent with):

Cordelia had known enough of the pair not to question her mistress on her concerns, particularly when she had witnessed the poor way her husband had treated her. Little did she know of the events that had followed were the real reason for Viola's abandonment of her marital dwelling.

Robert who was finding it increasingly hard to sleep at night without his wife by his side, took instead to taking the late night shifts for sentient guard duty, every night in fact. Many men suggested that perhaps he was going to end up exhausted by the end of the week – but he was adamant.

He had to protect the fort, he had said, whose walls were literally being built around him. The triangular structure shielded those inside from would be attack from the Spanish and within two months it had been built, so that now the main concentration was on the individual homes within which the colonists still worked jointly on.

But, on one evening during the low tide, they decided to celebrate the victory of the erection of the fort by wine, food, song and prayer.

They created a makeshift table and a few chairs out of logs, it more than sufficed as they sat around it and the food was served. Sumptuous arrays of fruit that they'd found, pheasant that they'd shot and other lovely things brought aboard the ship with them. It was truly a feast. As they all sat down together, one of the men started to sing and soon everyone was feeling pretty merry and others joined in.

Viola had decided to try to make peace with Robert as he sat at the table, glowering rather bored at the singers and trying to get a chance at the wine that was being passed around. The nurse sat chatting pleasantly with her friend Agatha, one of the cooks from back home. She smiled at her. She had turned out to be a pretty fine cook herself, proud of the dish she'd made her husband of muffins with fresh berries, he'd probably forgive her as soon as he sensed the aroma. She had realized that she had provoked him the day before last with her streak of independence and sarcastic comment about something he'd said to her when the first had met. No doubt word had managed to get back to him and that's why he responded as he had. But, had that not happened she would have never shared the incredible moment between them in that bath stall. She still shivered even now thinking about it as a glow came to her cheeks.

As she came around the side to where he was, basically unaware of her presence but looking more distant than usual, she was suddenly intercepted on her path by someone.

It was a woman, who immediately came to her husband's side and lifting her leg without barely raising her short skirts, saddled the log against his hip. He didn't notice her, but continued to play with his empty cup.

Suddenly Viola felt something she wasn't accustomed to in regards to Lord Wessex – jealousy. She looked over the woman with suspicion as she observed her smiling gaily at him. She was striking with long, wavy mahogany hair and beautiful face with warm, gray eyes and full lips that turned into a ready smile. He dress spoke of a woman not of means but perhaps someone who had spent her life in the service of others. She seemed comfortable though rubbing elbows with her husband enough and she didn't like it. Or her.

"Care for some ale? You seem like someone who could use a cool drink as I noticed your eyes in search of something," she teased. Her soft, lilting voice sounded like honey dripped from her tongue.

Viola put her muffins down and glared hard at the woman, a look of dejection on her face.

Still, Robert failed to notice the lovely woman.

"I am not bothering you kind sir, am I?" the woman asked him, still persistent in her approach. She added to it by softly touching his arm to attract his attention.

Finally he looked over and when he did, his eyes lit up to see the beautiful woman trying to vie for his favor sitting beside him.

She smiled at him, warmly as he seemed almost flustered for a moment.

He looked over to the left of her ear momentarily to notice Viola watching them, the look on her face made it obvious what she was feeling. He was surprised for the second time in a matter of minutes as he observed his wife.

Was she jealous? What it possible? It was – she had to be. He could scarcely believe it.

"Something to soothe you?" the woman repeated and held up her draft of beer and finally he took it from her hand.

"I thank you. You can not be a woman here to serve us, not with a lovely face such as yours," he whispered, grinning at her like a cat with a mouse in it's mouth. He knew it was all just a ploy to see how far he could push Viola into responding.

"How sweet of you to say – no, I work aboard the ship," the woman quickly responded. He quickly assessed that flattery did little to move her. "My name is Lisanne. What might your name be?"

"You certainly are presumptious, aren't you? I do have a name yes…"

She giggled. "What is it then, pray tell."

He leaned in and breathed into her face. "Lord Robert Wessex."

"Ohhh…" Lisanne purred. "A Lord!"

He kissed her hand. "At your service, my lady."

Suddenly there was a loud bang at the end of the table and Robert looked up to see Viola had slammed down the plate of muffins at the end of it. Without a word, but with hurt written on her face she ran off in the other direction.

The nurse looked up and then stared over at Robert.

"Not again!" Cordelia sighed.

She saw Robert across the table and waved her hand towards her mistress.

"Well?" she barked.

"You have grown demanding since we have left England, good nurse!" he growled from the other side of the table at her.

Lisanne began to laugh. "I should think you had better go – I take that was your wife who made a dramatic exit?"

"I apologize, I will return!" Lord Wessex said and knew he was out numbered.

Rising to his feet, he ran after Viola who had vanished behind one of the side walls of the fort to be alone with her thoughts.

He saw her hugging herself, leaning up against one of the tallest beams – her back to him.

"Viola, you would not by chance be jealous now would you?" he whispered a bit, teasing her with a knowing smile on his face. He wanted to glower in his small rejoice but the disheartened look on her pretty face made him back down.

"No! Go back to your meal."

He came up and touched her shoulders with his hands.

"You have not returned to the tent for a fortnight."

"I am aware," she commented, shivering under his touch.

"It has been cold without you," he said, softly. "Do not be fooled by that woman. She means nothing to me."

"That is not what is bothering me."

"Then what is?" he asked her and turned her around to face him.

"I really do not know," she replied as she glanced up at him, her eyes were softer now. He touched her face with his palm. It felt wonderful, she closed her eyes and curled her face away into his caress. "I'm scared."

"I know you are."

"I think it is of myself. Please – go back to the table with the others, Lord Wessex."

The fact that she didn't want to call him by his name left him confused.

"Not until you join me...Viola."

She looked down at her feet and seemed hesitant.

"I will, for now."

He took that as meaning to only the share the meal with him and nothing else, but he knew for now that was enough.

He surprised her as he held out his hand to lift it up and place his other at her waist to lead her back with him. As he came up to the table, Lisanne didn't look disappointed in the least but actually smiled at Viola as the couple sat proudly next to one another at the dining table.

As the prayers were said before the actual meal began couples would say what they were thankful for, most said that no matter what they had gone through over the last few months, they had one another.

Listening to the words, Viola and Robert gazed up from the bowed heads to find one another's eyes. There was a quiet look in their glances. Something had indeed changed and again, Viola felt a little shiver as she tried hard to smile at her husband. He tried to smile too as he felt the same exact shiver.


	10. Chapter 10

(As the meal winds down, people are feeling pretty sated by the food and the good wine present. It's at this point that someone comes up to Viola and nudges her politely):

"Lady Wessex, I have heard rumors that you are in possession of one of the original works of William Shakespeare, is this true?"

She beamed at the mention of the familiar name, she couldn't hide her delight as she looked up at the young man who came to her side with an obvious interest on his face. She was only grateful that Robert had since gotten up and went off to talk to some of the other workers from his day group.

"Yes I do actually. It is one of my prized possessions, let me see if I can find it!" she said, looking excited.

She rose to go back to her tent she normally shared with Robert to find the manuscript that Will had given to her as a gift. She held it close to her chest for a moment and tried not to cry in memory of the special memento.

Robert was watching her as she came back into the group cradling it in her arms. He had sensed her disappearance and looked everywhere for her. As soon as he saw the slightly tattered package in her grasp, his expression fell. There had been times when he wanted to dash the blessed thing overboard during their voyage here – but despite his best efforts to think otherwise, he knew it was indeed a remarkable work that should stand the test of time, despite the history behind it and those involved. He had to admit, even now – Shakespeare was a master with the pen.

It was something that indeed he hadn't even divulged to Viola, he didn't dare. But, that day when she had run out of the carriage to attend Will's play of Romeo and Juliet at the Curtain and when he saw Viola up on that stage, how regal she looked – how luminiscent, as if she were actually Juliet. For two hours he watched her quietly, listening to the story unfold and even though he was bitter at the end watching his wife kiss the arrogant and very married playwright, he couldn't help but be a little at awe of her. It was the first time he'd ever seen a woman perform, something unheard of – and yet, she was astounding.

So instead of intervening now, he decided to see if she would have that same effect on the colonists. He felt – proud of her.

She noticed his stare as she took her seat back at the table and opened the manuscript before her. She smiled at him and hoped he would approve. He held out his hand for her to proceed and she nodded in response.

Soon the words came from her lips as the candles were lit around the table, as twilight was upon them. It made her face glow in the half light and she looked almost ethereal.

She was adorned almost entirely from head to toe in a deep rose gown with a white bodice that peeked just above the cleavage. She had a plain, white linen cap to hide the french braids holding back her golden hair and the peach shade to her pretty cheeks had returned. She looked so lovely tonight, so much so that she suddenly paled in comparison to Lisanne who sat next to Robert at his right. He was so lost in her for a moment as she recited Shakespeare's words:

'Thou know'st the mask of night is on my face,

Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek

For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night

Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny

What I have spoke: but farewell compliment!

Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say 'Ay,'

And I will take thy word: yet if thou swear'st,

Thou mayst prove false; at lovers' perjuries

Then say, Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo,

If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully:

Or if thou think'st I am too quickly won,

I'll frown and be perverse an say thee nay,

So thou wilt woo; but else, not for the world.

In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond,

And therefore thou mayst think my 'havior light:

But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true

Than those that have more cunning to be strange.

I should have been more strange, I must confess,

But that thou overheard'st, ere I was ware,

My true love's passion: therefore pardon me,

And not impute this yielding to light love,

Which the dark night hath so discovered.'

She had the colonists with their cheeks in their hands, resting there watching her transfixed. For a moment she seemed lost – for no one spoke the section of text marked for Romeo.

Suddenly the words came to Robert, he knew them as he had heard them many times before, sneaking several reads during the long voyage when there was nothing else to do but sit and listen to the timbers creak as they rode upon the unforgiving seas.

'Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear

That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops…'

Viola looked up in shock to see her husband quoting the lines she held in her hands which began to tremble. She could scarcely believe it – she couldn't help it as she listened to him, her heart began to quicken – how wonderful he sounded, his eyes were soft as he begged her continue. How did he know the lines? She barely could remember her own for a moment, but did…then she knew, she didn't need to read the words as she knew them by heart and instead watched him.

'O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon,

That monthly changes in her circled orb,

Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.'

He responded:

'What shall I swear by?'

She grinned and said:

'Do not swear at all;

Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self,

Which is the god of my idolatry,

And I'll believe thee.'

He grinned in return and replied:

'If my heart's dear love…'

She said:

'Well, do not swear: although I joy in thee,

I have no joy of this contract to-night:

It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden;

Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be

Ere one can say 'It lightens.' Sweet, good night!

This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath,

May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.

Good night, good night! as sweet repose and rest

Come to thy heart as that within my breast!'

His eyes seemed gentle to her, she never saw him so handsome as he appeared tonight, leaning towards her on the table – the dark vest he wore was opened at the neck to reveal the strength of his breast to her eyes, his forlorn, chestnut locks curled over onto his forehead and his goatee curled into another dimpled smile. She felt her breath caught in her throat as she watched him. He was now Romeo, her Romeo…

He replied:

'O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?'

She said:

'What satisfaction canst thou have to-night?'

He replied:

'The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine.'

She said:

'I gave thee mine before thou didst request it:

And yet I would it were to give again.'

He replied:

'Wouldst thou withdraw it? for what purpose, love?'

She said:

'But to be frank, and give it thee again.

And yet I wish but for the thing I have:

My bounty is as boundless as the sea,

My love as deep; the more I give to thee,

The more I have, for both are infinite.'

They stopped for a moment and looked over at her nurse, prompting her to say something, but she had no clue.

"What is it my lady?"  
>It proved to be enough to feed into another part of the quote from the manuscript, Viola giggled a bit as she said:<p>

'I hear some noise within; dear love, adieu!

Anon, good nurse! Sweet Montague, be true.

Stay but a little, I will come again.'

With that she looked up at the other colonists, a little out of breath at the magical moment that had just happened before them and replied as she closed the manuscript to signal the end of the passage.

"That is all for this scene."

Everyone gasped in delight and sat there for a few moments, before they heard the sound of applause coming from across the table – it was Robert, cheering on his wife proudly. Soon everyone joined in.

Viola was blushing now as she looked over at him, tears forming in her eyes. Quietly she got up from her seat and came around him, resting her hand on his shoulders and leaning in to kiss his cheek.

"I should very much like to share the same tent tonight, Robert – that is if you think it might be cold this evening?"

"As cold as the ripening winds of the east bear down on us – I should very much like you at my side to warm me into restful sleep."

He grinned as she walked away from him. He couldn't take his eyes off her as he watched her wander over to speak to some of the other women who greeted her warmly with hugs and congratulations.

Viola felt a lovely, settled feeling travel through her and knew it was contentment. That was until she turned to see Lisanne immersed in conversation with her husband again and his attention drawn to her instead.


	11. Chapter 11

(As night drew to a close, Viola enters their tent, lifting up the flap and sitting down beside her husband who stopped his fussing within to witness her arrival. She looked decidedly of vague mood as he grinned up at her):

"Ah, you have returned. You will be happy to hear that I have resumed sentry duty, they do not require me to work on the colony's homes for at least a month. I will guard you admirably, good wife," he replied, full of cheer as he made room for her beside him.

She just nodded quietly as she sat down.

"You seem rather short on words given our performance before. No curtain calls?" he joked, trying to cozy up to her.

"I saw you speaking to her once more – mind you telling me what you spoke to her of?" she demanded, her tone icy.

"Wife, your mood changes like the tide. I simply was speaking to the woman, nothing more. She merely was congratulating me on my rendition of your darling poet."

"Oh – my darling poet?" she snarled and began to shake out her blanket in frustration.

"As I recall, I said nothing unkind to you all the while you yourself were dallying with him whilst engaged to me! The double standard is very prevalent in this tent!"

"I see! The fault lies with me then?" she hissed and moved away from him. She sat with her arms crossed over her chest and glared hard at him.

"Jealousy does not become you! Stop it at once!"

"I am not jealous!" she hissed.

"You most certainly are! I can feel the sense of it so thick in the air that I could cut it with a knife! We were only in conversation, nothing more transpired! She told me she detests your wondrous wordsmith and I could not help but be amused and ask her why – are you not curious yourself?"

He grinned evilly at her now, the old Wessex hath returned and she did not like it one bit. The colors of his personality were decidedly chameleon.

"Do not be vile! I do not care what that woman has to say!" she snarled and looked away.

"She told me that her sister Rosaline who knew Shakespeare quite intimately was scorned by him, leaving her penniless and shamed. Is that not interesting? I thought it was!"

"She lied, how could she have known him?"

"Lisanne said she attended each of his plays, but yet did not actually see any of them."

It was almost like a riddle, she looked at him in confusion.

"That does not make any sense – what do you mean she saw not a one?" she demanded.

He smiled at her. "You really are an innocent!"

Suddenly, her eyes grew big. "She is a whore?"

"It paid her fare on the ship you see in the harbour. She never need set foot on land as long as she has a different bed to share every night. I have no interest in a woman of her means, I give you my word."

"And I am to have your word as your faith?" she asked him, quietly, still quite flustered at the thought of Lisanne being a woman of easy virtue.

"Yes!" he hissed. "She stabbed a man who came on too strong to her in his advances, though he had the money she resisted him. He was nearly left for dead, but he was a man of power and was to bring her up on charges that may have led to her death. So she escaped and came here aboard our ship. She is admirably doing this on her own at great risk."

There was a tone of respect for in his voice. She decided not to dwell on it.

"I apologize. You were most impressive tonight, Robert," she purred.

"Ah, I am Robert once more," he teased lightly.

She bit her lip to keep from saying something she'd regret later, instead she laid down and he immediately took her into his arms as he rested below her. She put her cheek upon his chest and listened to his breathing.

"Where did you learn the words?" she whispered.

"I have my means," he replied.

"Meaning?"

"I read them."

She sat up and leaned on his chest, looking down at him. She had a quizzical look on her pretty face.

"What? You are surprised I know how?"

"No, I am simply confounded by your choice of reading material."

"As opposed to what, pray tell – the charter for the Virginia Company? That only can be taken so long before it lends itself to being prosaic."

She giggled a bit.

"Something perhaps causing you hilarity?"

"Prosaic…"

"I see, you think I am that, is that correct?" he snarled, looking a bit insulted. He knew right away who she meant as soon as she spoke the word.

"No, I never said that."

"You needn't!"

He looked away, as best he could in hurt.

"Husband, tonight you have proved you are anything but that. You were – astonishing. I could feel a shiver go through me as you spoke those beautiful words back to me. I nearly cried."

He gazed back at her words and his eyes turned tender.

"You were the one who was astonishing. I never told you before."

"I simply 'love poetry'," she said, a childlike glee in her eyes.

"Yes, over me or so I have heard."

She remembered Queen Elizabeth's biting remark at his expense. She could see how it still wounded him.

"That is not true!" she said, immediately without thinking.

He looked up at her in shock and she seemed to turn red in embarrassment. He could see her pulse vibrating clearly on her neck and he knew that she'd admitted something in a sense.

"Wife?" he asked, softly.

She grinned up at him as she laid still at his side, quietly pensive. He put his arm around her waist and moved her up alongside of him so that she was near to his face, she began to stroke his cheek with her hand.

"I still recall the first time I ever saw you," he whispered to her. "You were seated at the far right hand side at Whitehall Court, watching that fool on stage with the petulant little dog – how radiant you were when you laughed. I was utterly bored until I noticed you, I felt the room stop and I could not think as I did. As I stared at you, I noticed your nurse – Cordelia, looking at me in a most decisive manner and turned my attentions away in guilt."

She looked surprised at his words.

"You were there? Why did you never tell me?"

"There are a lot of things I have not told you of, good woman."

His tone was a little icy as his eyes shifted a bit in their gaze. He tried hard to keep his emotions in check, even as he felt her breath on his cheek.

"So I have learned!" she snarled and tried to tame her tongue. "But perhaps in time you will tell me more. I only wish I had known your intention that day, perhaps…"

"Things would have been different?" he said, his voice a little distant. She knew what he meant.

"Perhaps…"

She raised her hand, softly touching his curls with her fingers along the hairline of his forehead. He closed his eyes with her tender caress.

"Please stop," he begged.

"Why? You do not wish me to touch you?"

He could feel how close she was now, her body pressed against his and her heat tangible.

"I did not – I mean – I…" he struggled to speak.

"I wish to touch you," she whispered and began to lay gentle kisses along his jaw, against his cheek showing just a day's growth of fresh beard, up to the soft shell of his ear.

"Please do not trifle with my emotions, I beg you," he replied, shaking a little under her tender touches.

"Shhh…" she chided and began to kiss his neck, licking at his skin in obvious discovery.

He closed his eyes and held her against him, running his fingers down her back as the splendour of her continued.

"Please – you do not know what you do to me."

She broke away, hovering just above his face, her nose only inches from him as she looked intently into his eyes.

"Oh I think I do. I wish to kiss you."

"As before?" he asked of her, his breath quickening.

"No, not in that manner – that was crass and unforgivable of you! I would not wish…"

He separated from her a bit and looked her directly in the eye. "What are you speaking of? The moment I kissed you in your father's house or aboard the ship?"

"Aboard the ship? You did not kiss me aboard the ship!"

"I most certainly did…I – you do not remember do you? Ah, why should I not be surprised, your mind was blurred by the drink you consumed."

"I kissed you?"

He grinned at her. "You did, and much more…"

She gave him a dirty look. "Now, that I do not believe."

He nearly laughed. "Then perhaps you need to refresh your memory!"

She grinned. "Perhaps I shall."

Quietly, she lowered her face to his as he lifted her chin with his finger and closed the distance between them as she felt the first touch of the his lips on hers.

Tender and yielding, Viola's mouth accepted his eagerly as she returned the kiss with as much passion as she could. It was a gentle kiss, but full of meaning as he turned his head to one side to kiss her with more emotion. Viola moved her hand up Robert's chest to lay her palms flat against him, she could feel his heart beating feverishly against her fingers. This was what they both wanted now; they could no longer deny it.

Her head was swimming, it didn't feel real somehow. Was she really here? Having him kissing her like this? This was how it should be, she kept telling herself – this was right.

Suddenly, as if it dawned on him who he was truly kissing, his touch became more gentle. She could feel him tremble a bit as his lips took command and consumed hers. She sensed the tip of his tongue urging hers to part and she allowed him inside. Sensing her acceptance, he slid it inside her heat and could taste a hint of wine on her breath and the salt of tears on her lips. He hummed a little bit as she muffled a giggle as it was almost unreal how happy she felt. Robert moaned a little in return, slowly and tenderly devouring her warm lips with his.

He moved into her a bit so that he could lift Viola up into his arms, holding her tightly. She put her arms around his neck and slipped one hand behind his jaw as she could still feel the chill of the evening on his skin. The kiss turned a bit more intense as they explored a bit and Viola climbed Robert's teeth with her own. He played a bit with her tongue as it darted around his as she could feel his breath in her cheek. He tasted like stout and she liked that. His fingers began to find their way under her corset, tugging a bit on the strings that binded her, one by one they came free so that he was boldly stroking her bare back, gripping it in his fingertips until she groaned in response.

At last, needing the sustenance of air, they broke free. His lips lingered on hers for a tiny bit longer. They seemed stunned, but only for a moment at the realization of what just happened between them.

She was giddy, giggling a bit, and his face flush as he stared at her with desire and tenderness. His smile was genuine, and easily came to his face.

There was no doubt – they were no longer playing a part in a play and the thought brought a large smile to her face.

She looked down to see how loose her dress had become, revealing nearly her nudity again to him. The memory of it brought a rich blush to her chest and neck.

"Be not ashamed of your body," he said, as if answering her thoughts.

"As you should not, Robert," she replied and let her fingertips glide down over his chest, to his tummy, to just below his waist.

His eyes shot open at her rather impertinent voyage and he closed his eyes tightly as he could feel her stroking him a bit, before he took her hand off of him.

"You are bold, my good wife. But, let us rest – we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

She looked disappointed, but laid her head back down upon his breast with a sigh of contentment once more. He held her close and kissed the crown of her head.

"There will be time later for this," he said, as she quietly drifted into sleep. "I promise you that, sweet one."


	12. Chapter 12

(The next day, Robert was beside himself – his favorite pair of thigh-high boots were missing. They were his pride and joy, he had brought them all the way from England and belonged to his father. He went around for much of the day, giving people accusatory glances and shouting at many in frustration):

As he got ready for his evening sentry duty, he seemed a bit at a loss as he slid on an older pair of buckle shoes. It was only when he emerged from his tent that he saw them – his boots, sitting up against the post to support it – all alone, but perfectly polished and the buckles once broken now fixed on the side. They were as handsome and smart as if they were newly bought. He knew immediately as he retrieved them that it was Viola's doing.

Grinning, he looked them over and admired her handiwork. She was quite admirable when she wanted to be. He knew that this was a gesture to show her feelings for him. He was kidding himself again, he thought as he chastised himself silently. He stooped down and replaced his shoes for his boots, feeling whole again.

He opened the flap of the tent to peer inside and witness Viola sound asleep, her cheek curled into her hand and looking quite innocent.

Leaning over, he ran his hand down along her leg, belovedly and smiled at her.

Then getting up he resumed his watch.

He walked around the encampment for about two hours when he knew he needed to relieve himself. Creeping back into the woods just beyond the fort he encountered a small makeshift cottage he'd never seen before. He could tell there was a light burning inside and thought he could hear men's voices.

Briefly he resolved the pressure building up in him, before went closer to investigate the sounds. He'd never seen anything like this erected in the colony before and as he came up next to the building – he could make out it's inhabitants – they were the governors. Some were standing, others sitting – they looked quite animated as they were discussing something at great length.

Out of curiosity he came underneath a nearby window to listen in and got much more than he was prepared for.

"I tell you this, gentlemen – we must resolve this situation quickly before it dooms each and every one of us. This has gone on too long and it has gotten much bigger than anyone was prepared for when we formed the company. Diseases of plague proportions are eminent, I can feel it, along with that comes poverty and waste. It is forming into another failed experiment like Roanoke!"

"Then what say you? Abandon them to their plight?"

"If it is necessary, it is necessary! But we must make them believe we have no other choice than to return the governors to England's shore on behalf of the queen. This way we do not have to explain our departure with no hope of return!"

Robert's brow creased as he continued to listen – it sounded like one of the elders, he could scarcely believe his ears. He closed his eyes to shut out the thoughts running through his head as he could feel it spinning. He had to lean on his gun.

"No! We can not do this to them, they have faith in us!" came a voice of reason within, it was very apparent by the tone that it was Captain Gosnold.

As expected fully by Robert, John Smith was quick to chime in. "Damn you and your voice of reason! All we have ever heard from you is ways to calm the colonists but nothing in the way of solution! We need something concrete – now!"

Suddenly there was movement and it sounded as if someone were pacing the floor, just as the doorknob to the tiny house turned.

Lightening quick, Robert turned and ran blindly back into the woods wence he came. As he did, he was spotted briefly by John Smith who looked up to see where the noise was coming from and recognized the man's tell-tale boots.

"Me thinks we have a spy amongst us!" he snarled and grinned evilly.

When he had returned back to his tent with his wife, he was out of breath. His thoughts were still stifled by the horror of what he'd just overheard. But, he made the determination then and there that Viola would know none of it, if she did – her life may be in danger, he reasoned.

As he stripped out of his boots, coat and daily wears down to his blouse and pants, he slipped in under the blankets beside her. It felt immediately warm as her body heat permeated his cold bones.

Viola's eyes fluttered and she woke, she reached up for him and he gratefully sank down into her arms, laying his head on her breast in relief.

"Long night, good husband?" she whispered, stroking his hair.

"Go to sleep!" he grumbled, his mood sullen.

"I was only merely asking if you are tired?"

"Yes I am, go to sleep."

She moved him away from her and looked into his eyes, her brow creased in slight anger.

"Robert!" she snarled.

He silenced her at once with a kiss, she returned it but with a bit of a dispassionate air.

"Please – go to sleep!" he repeated a little more quietly as they separated.

With that he turned over on his side, his back facing her. She looked over at him in complete confusion. Just when she thought he'd opened up to her, welcomed her perhaps into his heart, he suddenly slammed the door shut once again.

Trying to keep from getting emotional about it, she reasoned perhaps he had been scared by a native in the dark and decided not to press it – she would ask him in the morning. Rolling over, she put her arm around his solid waist. She was comforted by his hand reaching over to hold her arm against cradled under his own.

With that, they fell asleep. Though Wessex's was marked by fits of waking and sleeping throughout the night.


	13. Chapter 13

(Three days pass, Viola tried to get her mind on other things as the usual pattern of Robert turning cold and distant. Anytime she tried to be even remotely attentive to him, he'd kiss or hug her almost as if he were placating her. He would never tell her why):

She was bringing in water from a nearby well for the afternoon meal when she watched her husband toiling by the gates, helping build once again. He looked striking with his tan leather jacket and sweat coming down along his face and neck as he laboured. She smiled to herself as she stared at him. Men now looked to him for guidance as they continued to work, the walls of the first house of the settlement finally going up – by the fall no doubt they would be in their own comfortable dwellings rather than the drafty tents that were growing wretched as they often fought off the insect infestations in the evenings.

As she was lost in her own thoughts, she noticed a man approach Robert, say a few words to him and observe him following the man off into the distance. No doubt he was going to take a brief break to refresh himself.

She smiled once more and lifting the buckets in a yoke around her neck, she went back to her own task at hand. She was grateful for the large, black brimmed hat that she wore today which was held in place with her white handkerchief attached to the attached to the underside. It held up her flaxen hair. It was the only thing keeping her cool from the noon day sun today. Having to wear black by edict of the governors was proving trying of late. She couldn't understand the change in atmosphere with the gentlemen but she found it was best not to argue the point. She knew there had to be a logic behind their reasoning.

It was only when the lunch was being prepared and the fixings were laid upon the table that something became apparent to Viola's nurse, Cordelia.

"My lady, where is your husband – he seems to be later than usual today. Should we fetch him?"

Viola herself looked up and noticed it as well. Her face creased with worry, this wasn't like him.

"No, I am sure he will be along in due course, good nurse. He is simply finishing up his work for the day."

But as time increased by the hour and still Robert didn't arrive, she grew pensive. She wandered a bit beyond the fort and the safety therein to look for her husband on the beach. Yet by all intensive purposes – he had simply vanished.

As she turned to return back inside, she was met by a young man at the gate. His face was flushed and he looked out of breath. He bent low, somewhat overly formal.

"Madame Wessex. Might I have a word with you? It is of urgency that I must speak to you."

She nodded and now felt truly afraid as he led her to an old tree stump which they used as a makeshift seat. She began to play with her skirt in obvious frustration.

"Yes, please tell me – what do you have to say to me?" she asked him as she did.

"It is Lord Wessex, your husband – the governors came to arrest him this afternoon on the charge of treason."

The colour from Viola's face vanished as she looked at him open-mouthed and her eyes wild with fear.

"What?" she cried. "Arrested? But – that can not be!"

"I am sorry to be the one to have to tell you such horrible news. But, I knew you had to know. They said he conspired against the Virginia Company and now he will be charged. If he is indeed found guilty, he will be hanged from the tallest tree outside the fort."

Tears began to form in her eyes as she could scarcely believe what she was hearing. Could this be possible? No! It could not! Not Robert! But, why his secrecy and avoidance of her of late?

She began to tremble as the tears freely fell down her cheeks and she tried to shut out the terrified voice crying out inside of her.

Finally, she opened her eyes and looked at the young man directly beside her.

"Where is he? I must see him!"

"I cannot, my lady. John Smith himself forbade us to even speak to you."

"Tell me – where is he?" she repeated, more firmly this time. "If you do not at once I will search every square inch of this land until I find him! Save me the trouble and confess!"

The young man thought to himself for a moment and then summoned his courage. "He is in the block house near the side entrance to the fort. It is not a formal jail, but it is enough to hold him for now! Go at night fall when they will not notice you! I can not say anymore – I have risked myself coming to you with this right now, please do not ask more of me."

He got up, bowed formally again and ran off back into the fort.

Viola was trembling as she held herself to comfort her racing thoughts. She was crying openly as she rocked back and forth a bit. Finally she buried her face in her hand.

"Robert! My darling!" she whispered, her voice choking back her tears.


	14. Chapter 14

(It was nearly half past midnight when Viola, dressed in a long, black cloak made her way through the dark with a shrouded lantern, careful to watch her footing and trying to be as silent as she could. Under her arm she carried provisions for her husband):

As she finds the basic structure that houses the only jail in the colony, her nose is immediately overcome by acrid smell of smoked meat. No doubt used to prep fresh kills before each meal. It was dark inside and she had to do her best to avoid tripping over rocks on the dirt floor. She raised the cowl of her cloak and looked about her to see someone in the corner of a cell made from wood and rope, he sat against the wall, his face turned away from her. She knew it was him.

"Robert?" she said in hushed tones and stepped closer.

He immediately turned to look up at her and it was then in the lantern light she could make out the bruises and gashes along his handsome face. It was apparent he'd been beaten within an inch of his life.

"Oh my dear Lord, have they hurt you?" she cried, her heart beating feverishly in her chest. She wanted to throw down the lantern and run to his side to bathe his face but knew the bars immediately restricted her.

"Why – why are you here? Who has spoken to you?" he demanded as he still didn't stand, but just glowered at her angrily from his spot on the other side of the room.

"It does not matter, I am here now – I have brought you food and water. I have the notion they have not provided you with the same?" she whispered. "Please come closer so I can clean your wounds."

"No! Please, you are making a foolish attempt at civility on my behalf! Leave here at once. And, if you knew what was good for you, woman you would buy passage on the next cargo vessel and leave forever!"

He sank back down into his spot on the rock bench and didn't look up this time.

"You have a lot of nerve saying such things to me after you concealed the truth! Why did you not confide in me what was happening? Why are you here? Is what they say true?" she demanded, feeling her ire at him once more returning. "I want you to tell me everything – I think it is time, Robert!"

"Know your place!' he snarled. "It is not for a woman to contend with such issues – I did not think you would comprehend the full scope of what I discovered. I will not speak of such matters now as it really is pointless. Go!"

"Why do you say things to me? It is true – I heard from a young man the other day about your imprisonment, all I could think of is that you did not deserve to be here. I broke down in tears because I feared for your safety! Tell me it's wrong to care about you and I'll go!"

His eyes looked up at her admission of her feelings, he'd never heard her say those things to him. Finally he could no longer conceal his masquerade and immediately rose to his feet to run to her as she had buried her face into the bars and was sobbing once more. Lifting her face with his hand he looked deep into her gray eyes.

"Please, good wife, do not cry – I can not stand to see you so," he said as he put his cheek in close to hers and held her as best as he could through the gates that divided them.

She cried a little harder and then finally smiled as she held him back, instead burying her nose in his shoulder. "I will get you out of here, I promise."

"Do not do anything hasty, Viola – I beg of you."

She nodded as he broke away from her to wipe the tears from her eyes. She gently tried to use her cloak to rub the dirt and caked blood from his temple. He winced in obvious pain.

"Why have they done this?"

But rather than answer her, he took her lovely face between his hands and kissed her deeply. She gasped in surprise and returned the kiss. He breathed heavily into her cheek as she could feel his lips separate and devoured her own hungrily. She moaned and reached through the bars to put her hand behind his neck and pull him even closer, sinking her fingers into his dark curls.

As they broke away from one another he kissed her a few times more and looked on the verge of tears himself, but stopped.

"Listen to me, go back to your tent – say nothing to anyone! Come back tomorrow, but try to sleep tonight – do that and I may rest knowing that you are safe."

She nodded and kissed him, as reaching for him, hugged him as best as she could.

Then she bent low and slid the food and water through the bars to him.

"You may rest assure then, Robert – tomorrow I will return. I promise you that. For however long it takes."

His chestnut eyes looked sad as she walked away from him, possibly one of the hardest things she ever had to do, but she wanted to obey his wishes though it was tearing her apart inside.

As soon as she stepped into the dark, forbidding night she suddenly felt someone grab her arm.

Nearly screaming in alarm, she turned to see it was Lisanne, roughly holding her ground and looking quite somber.

"Let me go! What are you doing?" Viola demanded.

"Where is your tent – I need to speak to you, it is urgent!" she replied.

Without waiting for a reply, she began to drag her back to the encampment. Viola tried to fight her off the whole way but it did little good as both women made their way through the vines and trees to the safety of her tent.

Once there, she threw back the flap and Lisanne followed her in, she tried to move away from her finally.

"I can not speak to you – please go!" Viola begged.

"I was there, Lady Wessex. I saw the whole thing and what he said to you. I know how we can help free your husband."

She looked up at her in shock. "Why should I believe you?"

"What do I have to gain by fabricating the truth? And I know you love him."

Lisanne looked at her, and she went numb. She didn't know what to say – it was a realization and in her heart she knew it was true.

"No one ever said that to you before have they?" Lisanne asked quietly, a knowing smile on her face. Her penetrating green-gray eyes looked deep into hers. She leaned in close to her and whispered. "Isn't it about time to admit it then?"

Viola shook a bit and then nodded.

She looked down at her lap in embarrassment when she noticed the other woman reached over and take her hands in her own. She glanced back up at her.

"Let me help you, please. He did not do anything, he has been imprisoned wrongfully by a very scornful and evil man, I should know – he has more than once crossed my path. His name is John Smith, a traitor to the company if I ever saw one. He planned a mutiny aboard the Godspeed. It was your husband, Lord Wessex who witnessed his plan and it was he who went to the captain with the news. Thank Gods above he did or we would no doubt all be at the bottom of the ocean now if he had not. There were traitors in that room that keeps your husband captive, that's why he couldn't tell you everything that I just have. Do you not see – he said what he did to protect you. He also did what he did to protect all of us and Smith doesn't like it. That is why he has him captive in that horrid place they call a prison. But, he told you how to rescue him – do you not see – the cargo vessel. If we can find the money and the means to get aboard that ship, tomorrow night as dawn is almost here – we will be free of this place, and so will he."

Viola's eyes lit up and for the first time in a long time since the events had transpired – she smiled at the woman, filled with hope.

"But, understand – it will not be so easy a task. The ship is a crew of men only. The reason I am allowed to remain amongst them is that I am a woman of ill repute, but you are a lady and if you are to travel with your nurse, so is she. And, unless you have some means to…"

Suddenly, Lady Wessex sat up in delight. She put her hands on Lisanne's lap in excitement.

"Thomas Kent!"

"Who?" Lisanne asked.

"I must confess, I have posed already as a man back in England to attend William Shakespeare's plays at his playhouse."

"Shakespeare!" grumbled Lisanne a bit under breath.

Viola ignored her but gave her a side ways glance as she continued. "As I said, I portrayed a man quite ably and appeared on stage as such. It may be time to don my role again."

"You are full of surprises, my lady," Lisanne said, giggling slightly.

"Call me Viola please."

"Only if you call me Lisanne."

"Agreed!"

"Do you trust me then?"

"Do I have a choice?" Viola volleyed back.

Lisanne smiled again. "No."

"Well then we shall best muddle along and see what becomes of this outrageous venture."

Lisanne agreed and was about to leave the tent when Viola spoke up. "Please stay tonight, I would like the company, if that is alright?"

She came back into the tent and curled up next to her, lightly resting her hand on her waist as she burrowed under the blankets for warmth.

"Thank you, for staying and for helping me."

"Think nothing of it – I was growing bored upon the ship anyhow."

Now they both laughed at the lewd notion and fell asleep.


	15. Chapter 15

(It was a pensive day for Viola as well as Lisanne, they managed to tell their plan to only one other person – Viola's nurse in preparation for that evening. Viola knew that she couldn't tell Robert – not only would he disapprove but the walls had ears in that place, though she often visited him when she could throughout the day):

When evening approached, she was inside her tent, up on her knees in front of Lisanne topless as she was helping her adorn her garments and start to become Thomas Kent once again. The nurse was off trying to find the rest of her outfit as her new friend was sizing up.

"I must admit, you look rather adorable as such," Lisanne whispered, giggling slightly.

"I am afraid, dear lady, I have not enough to pay you for your services!" Viola joked, trying to deepen her voice.

"Hmm…and here I thought you a man of means, I am quite disillusioned!" Lisanne answered.

She bounced Viola's breasts in her fingertips in jest. "Something does not look right, sir."

Viola began to laugh. "I hope my nurse brings the cotton batting to bind them, it is a bit drafty in here."

Lisanne began to play with her nipples and it was decidedly rather personal. "I can see that. Besides of which, I think a thick shirt will suffice, there is hardly reason to bind these little ones."

Viola looked at her in insult. That was until she noticed Lisanne was still playing around with her breasts, now squeezing them in her palm. Viola quickly moved away from her overeager grasp.

"You know, I think I will look for that shirt myself!"

She could feel her cheeks burn in obvious embarrassment.

"I apologize, I am a little too free in my favors I fear," Lisanne explained. "Seeing you as Thomas Kent, I forgot myself."

Viola still wouldn't look up at her. She wondered where her nurse was at present. She had never realized that Lisanne had probably preferred both men and women. When the thought crossed her mind at how it was even possible – she realized she had just let her stay with her the night before. She began to feel uncomfortable.

"Relax, please Viola – I will behave myself," Lisanne whispered right near her ear, making her jump again. "Let us instead focus on getting your husband aboard that ship!"

Later, in the dead of night – Lisanne, Viola and Cordelia made their way back to the beach where they decided to split up. Lisanne went back to the ship to try to convince one of the yeomen to take her friends aboard with part of Viola's dowry in her hands. She sincerely hoped she could trust her as she watched her go with her nurse following the younger woman – but it was as she said before, what other choice did she have at this point. She herself went back to the prison.

Lisanne had confessed to her that the guard – the only one as it turned out – who was minding Robert actually fancied him. Would wonders never ceased.

She said that if Viola made a play for him as Thomas, he would certainly oblige in giving her the keys to Robert's cell.

Swallowing her pride, she decided to try it.

Robert saw her come into the entrance of the building and it immediately peaked his interest – he has seen that face before, and knew who it was – it was Viola. Not only that, he recalled seeing her dressed as strangely as she was before, but he did not remember where.

He watched her now, desperate to make a comment of alarm over her motivations of play acting in this place, when he observed her approaching the guard in the corner.

The same guard who on recent occasion had seen it fit to speak to him in overly gentle tones of concern, and who had more than once slipped his hands around his waist with the explanation for fear he would fall. It was obvious the man preferred the company of other men.

So why was Viola dressed in a man's attire…

No! It couldn't be!

He grimaced a bit at first and then slowly a large grin came to his face at the cunning of his wife.

How she knew the other man's sexual preference was beyond him, but at the moment it hardly mattered.

Yet here she was, ignoring her own husband entirely and instead entertaining with small talk the handsome, young guard near the entrance to the room. As she reached her arm around him in the midst of conversation, he noticed her sliding his key from his chain.

Robert gasped slightly and tried to contain himself, nearly laughing.

She had nerve, he gave her that. How impressive she was.

There were a few more words exchanged and with it the guard stood up and left his post.

Now the couple were finally alone.

As Viola rushed across the darkened room with key in hand, Robert decided to play along with her charade.

"Come quickly, let us get out of here!" she hissed as she unlocked the gate.

"Who are you?!" Robert demanded, trying to sound indignant.

"It matters not, merely a friend. I will confess my true identity later – we have not the time at present!"

She took command immediately as she reached for his arm and together they made it to the safety of the ship just sitting anchored off the shore, the moonlight casting lovely lights across the water. There were a few small rowboats making the crossing to the beach.

'My clever girl!' he thought to himself as he held on to her arm a little tighter in fondness. "Hurry! Please pick up your pace!" came another familiar female voice in the near darkness. As the waves lapped the shore, he turned to make out Lisanne approaching them.

Therein another mystery was solved, now he knew how Viola knew of the persuasion of the guard.

Greeting them in relief she smiled up at them.

"Follow me, gentlemen!" she said, chuckling slightly. No doubt she had some part in Viola's masquerade as well.

As they passed her to move up the beach, both Viola and Robert suddenly felt a sharp pinch to their backside. It was Lisanne's hand in this.

Robert jumped and then he noticed his wife did as well.

He decided to once again play along. "My my, we shall have to hire this wench's service aboard the mighty vessel!"

Lisanne tried to hide her delight. "It will be my pleasure. I may even charge you half for your small companion if he joins us!"

Robert chuckled lightly and slapped Viola hard on the back. "See, I knew my fortunes had turned out for the better as soon as you arrived, lad!"

He walked past her and then came up to Lisanne, putting his arm around her waist instead and leading her up to the boat awaiting them now with an oarsmen at ready.

Viola clenched her fist and grumbled a bit as she followed them.

(Finally onboard the ship, Robert came inside first and a man tried to stop him, but Lisanne led him aside as soon as he did. Robert then took the nurse inside with him, he waited for his wife – but Lisanne signalled she was fine and went on without her):

Viola stood near the main deck to the cargo hold and watched as Lisanne made suggestive remarks to the crew member who had tried to hold up Robert. She couldn't make out much of what was said, but the way she was touching him, it was apparently a proposition for some frisky activity for later that night.

She comes over to Viola with a knowing grin on her face. "It is done, you have safe passage to England granted to you. But, I suggest you stay in your disguise and it would do you well to keep your nurse covered as well. They still do not know your true identities and we must keep it that way."

She breathed a sigh of relief as she smiled at Lisanne. "I do not how to thank you!"

But as she tried to step away from her, Lisanne stood in her way. "I think I may have some idea."

Robert returned from one of the cabins to see what had become of his wife when he saw Lisanne standing in front of her, suddenly taking her aside and gently pushing her up against one of the walls by the shoulders.

He looked puzzled and then he overheard the conversation.

"Wha – what are you doing? I…" Viola began to protest.

Lisanne leaned into her a bit and covered her questioning lips with her own.

Robert's eyes grew large as he continued to watch in disbelief. It should have been jealousy he felt, but it was quite the opposite – it was excitement. He'd never seen anything quite like this in his life and didn't know how to react but he couldn't tear his eyes away.

Viola tries to push her away, but what surprises him – is she doesn't try too hard, instead she half sinks into the kiss – as if she were welcoming it a little, that perhaps it excited her too.

As Lisanne separates from her at last, she hears the other woman mutter. "I am loyal to my husband."

This causes her to smile as she leans in to kiss Viola once more, this time a little longer and tries to urge her lips to part as she tickles her bottom lip with her tongue. But, once more Viola breaks away.

"…He may wonder where I am!" Viola objected, breathlessly.

Lisanne just nodded and then brings her up into her arms, pressing her more into the wall as she captures her mouth again in hers. This time she manages to slide her tongue into her mouth. Viola cries out in surprise.

Robert's breath begins to beat as fast as his heart as he watches them with growing desire. What shocks him is his wife was beginning to respond to the gentle persuasion of the woman's arms she was in.

Viola indeed was delighting in the discovery of a forbidden kiss, one that shouldn't be happening – one that she shouldn't be enjoying this much as her lips began to gently caress Lisanne's.

Once more she nudged her away, but only a breath away from her own mouth as she said "Please…we should stop. This isn't right. I am married. Happily."

Robert's eyes grew wide at her words.

Lisanne giggled a bit. "I know, you have told me how you care about him. I am sorry I simply wanted to know what it was like and could not resist. You really are lovely, Viola."

She jumped a bit as she felt her nimble fingers travel down over her stomach to between her legs and lightly pet her there, tickling and nudging her a bit before she finally broke free completely.

"As are you, thank you…I – have to be looking for my husband…"

Robert quickly disappeared back into the shadows and into the cabin behind him as he watched Lisanne leave finally, and his wife approach his direction.

As soon as she was within the entrance of the door to go past, he reached out and grabbed her arm.

Viola screamed as she looked up, the door closing behind her back firmly and a hand come over her mouth. This was like a bad dream, everyone suddenly grabbing her on this ship – she didn't know what was about to happen to her and just prayed silently for Robert when she felt herself being pressed face first into the wood frame of the door and a voice up close to her ear.

"Finally we are alone," came an all too familiar voice.

She breathed a sigh of relief, it was her husband – thank the Lords, but when she heard his next words she could feel her blood run cold.

"I have been waiting for this moment since I saw you alone in that jail, coming on to that other male guard. I knew then that you think as I do. All I desire is to feel you against me now. Perhaps we can have a spot of fun before my wife finds us."

Viola's eyes grew wide. He was coming in to Thomas Kent!

"She does not know and what she does not, I will not tell her. I need to be inside of you, feeling your body without these restraints of clothes against my skin, your warmth, the scent of you, the taste of you."

She shivered at his arduous words, wishing they were for her instead. How could he betray her like this?

"From the moment I met you I knew, I could sense it even though you could not. The way you talk, the way you move, the way you read those words to the colonists that evening over the meal and I read them back to you."

Suddenly Viola gasped – he knew it was her!

He smiled as he pressed himself into her.

"My beautiful wife, I need you now, I have wanted you for a very long time," he whispered, his lips kissing her ear and pressing his nose into her neck which burned under his touch.

"Oh Robert!" she gasped, aloud.

She held in her grasp the coins that she was to give the yeoman when coming aboard the ship, as her fingers trembled at the thrill of his words – the coins tumbled all over the floor loudly at her feet.

She quickly tried to stoop down to pick them up in embarrassment but he lightly laughed at her predicament and gallantly stepped forward himself.

"No, no – allow me!"

As Viola stood there quivering slightly, her breath hitched a bit in her throat while placing her forehead against the frame of the door, he was overcome with emotion at how beautiful and vulnerable she looked. And he had to admit, she was pretty darling as a boy. He realized at that point, it was pointless to resist her any longer, he'd given himself away with his gentle teasing before, he had meant everything he'd just said.

"Lift your foot," he whispered as he reached under the heel of her tiny, buckled amethyst shoe. Obediently she raised her foot and he began to gather the coins.

But, then he stopped and quietly, without warning, began to remove the shoe from her.

She gasped slightly and looked down – unsure of what he was doing until she felt the most remarkable thing – that of his fingers sliding down over the base of her foot, examining the gentle arch and reaching each of his long fingers in between her small toes to hold her foot up. Then he leaned in and began to lick and suck on her heel.

She shuddered a bit as a warmth gathered deep inside of her and she groaned at the sensation. Placing her hands flat against the oak frame of the door for support, for fear she would lose her balance completely since she was so lost in the moment…

He grinned to himself that at the slightest provocation she was a puddle of mush and so he continued. His hands explored the delicate bone of her ankle, up along her calf to further still up along the back of her thigh. She continued to tremble under his touch.

Robert realized quickly that there was an obstacle, one he had mentioned before – her clothes, her damning pseudo male clothes. He knew they needed to be quickly dispatched of if he were to continue with what he desired.

He found the clasp to her stockings just on the underside of her pantaloons. He thanked God that he knew how to undress himself equally well and knew where everything was exactly. As he freed both of her legs, he slowly peeled down the blue tights so that they revealed splendid ivory skin, glowing before his eyes and toasty to his touch. It was only seconds after both stockings lay in piles of fabric around her that he began to explore her warm, incredibly soft skin with his tongue and lips.

Viola felt her head spin, this wasn't happening, it couldn't be – it felt like a fantasy. She had secretly feared of letting go and yet at times she dreamed of it at night lying beside him, what it would be like having him take her into his arms and making love to him. Now she knew there was no going back. She welcomed it as a deep seated desire buried itself low between her legs and she grasped the hard wood of the door in her fingertips even more. The things he could do with that divine mouth of his, he was certainly talented, she thought to herself.

His tongue coasted up from her ankle to her calf in a long, hot trail as he began to kiss and suck on the dip behind one knee and then the other. Her moans became more plaintive as his voyage of discovery to her new world continued. Meanwhile his beautiful hands showed the way like a guide as they made their way up her legs, hugging and caressing them, bringing them closer to his face.

"Please, don't stop! Please don't stop!" Viola whispered, her voice muffled a bit by the sound of her jagged breathing, but he heard her.

"Your wish is my command, my lady," he teased.

As his fingers encountered the barrier of her pantaloons, she realized he would need assistance. Moving her hips back slightly, she fought to undo the clasp on her pants and it took little time at all before he began to pull them down her legs and off her body, throwing them to one corner of the room cavalierly.

She stood there, still not facing him, shaking a bit as she was bare in her fine boyish garments on top and below that only a simple pair of white undergarments – unremarkable but incredibly alluring all the same to him.

He took his time, careful to bring her to just the right moment of readiness for him. He sat up a bit behind her, he began to remove his own suede jacket and vest, dropping them to the floor and then leaned in to embrace her hips and thighs a bit as he ran his tongue along the back of her upper leg, to the crease just below the shape of her plum bottom – becoming slightly naughty as he bit the curve with the edge of his teeth – causing her to jump a bit. Then nudging her legs apart slightly, began to kiss and tenderly lick her inner thigh. Her moaning began to grow in intensity as she moved her legs apart even more and then he knew she was ready for him.

Grasping the top of her underpants, he revealed the full, rounded shape of her lovely little bum and the nest of darkened hair peaking out below as he removed them from her legs.

She prayed nothing would interrupt them, not now, please…

Nothing did as she felt his nose press itself slightly in a part of herself she'd kept private from him for at least two years prior and now she was dying for him to explore. What she wasn't expecting was that he was much more talented than she realized, and that he was about to do something to her that not even Will dared do.

Carefully he lifted his fingers to divide her and dipped his tongue in between a place she didn't even venture herself. Gasping aloud, she lurched forward, her eyes opening wide for a moment in disbelief.

As she continued to feel the pleasure that he brought to her in ways she never thought she'd imagine

She could feel his fingers reach up and separate her thighs even more as his tongue delved between them. She began to tremble as he explored a part of her lovingly, bathing it and batting at it playfully before pulling it into his warm, moist lips. She could feel her body react immediately. Never in her life had she felt such an unexplainable sensation as that that coursed through her system. Yet, it was very real as she placed her forehead against the door to steady herself, her breathing becoming heavier and her fingernails digging into the grain of the wood. Her body was reacting on it's own now, rising and rolling with each sweep of his tongue, causing her to feel a tingling feeling that was like a deep-seated tickle she couldn't scratch, it was driving her mad – faster and faster she jutted her hips into his face as he slid his tongue even inside of her at one point. Even the gentle tease of his goatee as it caused it's own delightful tease of her soft skin. She began to hear herself moaning unintelligible words and curses as she bit down sharply on her lip until it nearly bled. This was sheer heaven and she knew it.

But, then, like that – he stopped and drew away from her.

She looked up briefly in disappointment but only for a moment as she felt a rush of air and he had moved up along her to scoop her trembling body up in his arms and his bury his nose into her shoulder. Reaching up, he pulled her boyish, brown wig off her head so that her golden tresses fell free. She could hear his words in her ear as his damp lips found the spot behind it.

"I must confess I have not heard such foul language uttered from so sweet a lips as yours before, my lady," he whispered hotly.

"If you persist the way you do – you will no doubt hear more!" she said, laughing lightly.

"Then you give me no choice!" he teased and she felt him peel her velvet sapphire jacket from her shoulders and then begin to undo the ties along her blouse near her breasts. She closed her eyes and felt the heat of his body as he pressed into her from behind. As his fingers busied themselves with their labor, he laid gentle kisses along her bared skin as little by little more of it was revealed. Tenderly, he sucked on the smooth nape of her neck underneath the sheath of her long, waves of flaxen hair that he managed to brush over one of her shoulders so he could taste the skin of her shoulder. She shivered underneath him, but she was not cold – on the contrary, she was burning to his slightest touch.

She giggled a little bit despite herself again and he smiled under his kisses, liking the sound of the joy he was bringing her as her breasts came free once he coerced her to raise her arms and threw her blouse to the floor. Immediately he reached up and captured them in the palm of his large hands. She gasped a bit and then shuddered a little as he softly began to smooth his fingertips over the incredible texture, like silk – and feel her nipples rising up to meet them.

Viola could stand it no longer. She suddenly spun around in his arms and wrapped her own around his neck, reaching up to kiss him. He kissed her in return – harshly, vaguely reminiscent of their very first – the one she often times tried to forget. Now, it was made unforgettable as the passion overrode their reason and she buried her fingers deep into his hair to pull him closer. He buried his nose deep into her cheek as he brusquely devoured her lips, his tongue fighting it's way for acceptance into her warm and inviting mouth. He grabbed for her, digging his fingernails actually into her back as one hand gripped her lovely rump, lifting her up slightly off the floor.

Breaking away only momentarily to gain their breath, they looked at each other with lust in their eyes as she suddenly began to grab for his shirt and the last vestments of clothing he wore. He helped her where her hands could not and the both of them began to tear off his clothes, which mostly ended up on the floor until at last he stood as naked before her as she did to him now. He looked so amazing, so real and so incredibly vulnerable. Her eyes traveled over every inch of his body as his did the same in unabashed admiration.

It was then that she noticed the scarring and wounds on the side of his face. She reached up tenderly to touch them, when he abruptly grasped her hand. She inhaled sharply as he pulled her up against him for another hungry kiss, he wanted to forget the pain and focus everything he was feeling on her. He wanted to immerse himself completely, forget the world outside this one, to love her finally as he had been wanting to for years.

But what she did surprised him, she lifted herself on her toes, bowing his head with her hand slightly as she licked at the said wounds with her tongue. He grimaced but at the same time it was incredibly sensuous and he allowed it. Then she raised up even more and enveloped his left ear within her mouth. It was slight – but he felt an odd tug. As she moved away from him, she held up her prize for him to see…it was his earring.

"What?! You little thief!" he snorted, contemptuously as he tried to reach for it, grabbing her around the waist to hold her still, but she played at it and held it away from him, scrambling past him.

"Finders keepers," she giggled and reached up to put it in her own ear.

He smiled at her, he couldn't help it. "I admit – it is rather fetching on you. I shall allow it – for now. But, you will consent to return it to me tomorrow."

"I think not! It is rather a pretty trophy!" she said, still giggling.

As he tried to reach for it again, this time she claimed him as her prize – as putting her arms around his neck, she began to kiss the side of face, down along his jaw which she outlined with the tip of her tongue until she heard him gasp in surprise. Meanwhile her nimble fingers ran down the counters of his body, over his warm breast, down his narrow torso to stroke his bare belly and lower still – until she claimed him at last in her hand. He moaned loudly and held his breath as her mouth and tongue voyaged down to meet her fingers, tasting his skin as she did. She stroked him several times in her fist she made around it before she sank her lips down over the top and soon, though it took a moment of practice, the rest of him disappeared deep within her mouth.

He closed his eyes tightly, seeing lights even when he did as he grasped her tiny head to him as she moved in a perfect rhythm. He could feel the heat rising up in him like a fury through his body. He had to stop this before it was over too soon, counseling himself to restraint as he coaxed her away from him.

Robert lifted her up to stand in front of him. Then he bent over and putting his arms around her waist and under her butt, he lifted her high into the air.

She screamed in surprise and then kissed him passionately as he carried her over to the door and pushed her up against it. Immediately she separated her legs and wrapped them around his waist, crossing her ankles into his back. Without warning – she could feel a hard pressure divide her, piercing her and in one smooth move fill her deeply inside as thrust his hips forward, causing her body to bang loudly into the door as she threw back her head and screamed out her pleasure. He grunted loudly in response.

Outside the door, Lisanne was making her way along when she heard what sounded like a struggle going on inside to anyone else but her. She knew what it was. Smirking, she tried to cover her mouth to muffle a laugh.

Her little ploy had worked. Yes, she had to admit – she rather fancied a kiss from Viola, but to have known Robert was observing them – well all the better. And what better way to stoke the slow-growing desire between them.

As the banging on the door began to grow in intensity and speed, along with the joyous screams of pleasure inside – she knew that they would need no more coaxing tonight. She continued to listen, finding it exciting to do so.

Soon the sounds abetted as inside we see the lovemaking had moved to the bunk bed near the far wall. Wrapped up in the sheets, with her legs above her captured in Robert's strong arms, we see their bodies move as one across the feathered mattress, as he leans in close to kiss her through struggling breaths. It isn't long before the peak of their unity causes a rapturous response as her body rises up off the bed and arches high as she screams her husband's name and he groans loudly to accompany her, grasping desperately at one another. As they shudder one last time in ecstasy, they fall apart into one another's arms.

He can barely breathe as he lays back with his head on her breast, listening to her heartbeat like a frantic rabbit in his ear. She puts her arms around his shoulder, feeling the sheen of sweat on his skin and laughs finally in relief.

"This is Lisanne's fault!" Viola chastised.

He chortled a bit in response. "I do not recall her being in the room – I think the blame for what just happens lies solely upon your shoulders, good woman!"

"She was outside the door!"

"Oh come now, how do you know that?" he said, resting his chin on her collarbone and looking up at her ruddy and content expression. She smiled down at him, and began to stroke his hair.

"I could hear her laughing. I am almost certain that kiss was for your benefit – did you see us earlier?"

Now he turned a bit red. "I must admit, I did encounter your indiscretion."

"Well, it certainly – did the trick" she said, shaking her head.

"I am not paying you more than a pence!" he said in retaliation.

With that pronouncement, she took the pillow behind her head and hit him with it.


	16. Chapter 16

(The next morning):

It was early when Lord Wessex awoke from his peaceful slumber next to his wife. Once again he became aware of the familiar roll of the sea from underneath him, a sensation he'd tried hard to forget.

And yet, it was worth the sacrifice of comfort to feel Viola's naked and warm body curved into his own as if she were made for him while she slept beside him. He wrapped one of his arms around her and placed his fingers flat against her little tummy. Resting his cheek into the soft cradle of her shoulder, he breathed in the lovely aroma of her hair.

Had last night perchance been nothing but a dream?

Yet here they were together, a feeling of calm as he'd never felt before settled into his bones. It was peace – something he was unaccustomed to.

Smiling, he kissed her cheek as she slept on and then playfully leapt over her side and landed on the floor.

He felt as if he could have eaten two breakfasts that morning and work the labor of three men!

Or perhaps another frolic between the sheets with the fair maiden still lost in the world of dreams would suffice.

Despite the fantasies, he knew the reality of the situation that still faced them. They were returning home. It was something he'd never thought he'd see again – if it wasn't for her, he wouldn't be.

For a moment, the aspect of seeing England again filled him with dread as he looked down at his wife's face.

Now that he had at last shared her body and soul – would he still lose her heart to her dearest playwright?

He began to pad barefoot back and forth on the wood planked floors nervously before turning and throwing open the shutters to the tiny cabin. The smell of salt sea air filled his nose immediately as he looked outside. The waves were so high they nearly came to his chest alongside the ship. He leaned out for a moment, lost in thought and listened to a gull cawing as it flew overhead.

"Robert?" came a soft voice from his bed.

He turned and realized the sunlight had awoken her.

"Go back to sleep, good wife. I did not mean to disturb you, I apologize," he whispered, tenderly.

She smiled and held out her hand to beckon him closer. He came to her side immediately.

"It matters not, I am more than happy to rise to find you next to me and safe. I feel so wonderful this morning, like I was asleep and have just awoken – much thanks to you dear husband."

He sat down on the edge of the bed and tried to muster a smile.

Without a word more, she sat up and took him into her arms. He closed his eyes at her gentle gesture and then squeezed her a little tighter – not wanting to let her go, however brief this moment was.

"All that matters to me now is you," she whispered, more of a confession than simply a gesture of fondness.

He almost wished he could believe that, as he smoothed her bare back and kissed her shoulder, softly. But, she could feel the strain in his muscles.

"Robert, what is it?" she asked him, tenderly. "Tell me you do not regret what we shared?"

"I have a most remarkably brave and beautiful wife - last night was – something that - it was – "

His voice trailed off and she broke away to look at him, she touched his cheek when his dark eyes cast away from hers. She could see that there was something on his mind. He felt humiliated in his feeble attempt to voice his feelings to her and unbraided himself for it.

"Was what?" she asked, tenderly – she hoped he'd say more.

He seemed hesitant, if he betrayed himself to her – would she laugh at him and spurn his emotions?

But as he tried to move away as well physically she would not be so easily deterred, as he sat up, she reached up for him and held him still.

"Please after all we had together last evening, please do not tell me it was all for naught!" she begged. "And I am not remarkable, I did what any woman who stands beside the man she…"

He shut his eyes tightly, not having the courage to hear the words she would utter with cold feeling as if by duty.

"Perhaps I did take advantage of your moment of weakness, to prey upon your need for someone – anyone – you confused me with someone else I fear," he answered, his tone flat as he tried once more to get up.

"Why do you hold yourself accountable so – I do not. And what you say is not true. I made a choice last night as much as you, you know that."

"You seek poetry and romance, and take it into your heart - I just take – and in this instance the one I took was you. And for that I am sorry."

"Robert – where are these words coming from?" she demanded, feeling her blood run cold.

He refused to look at her now.

Instantly she sat full up in bed, throwing aside the sheet that covered her nudity. She took his hand and held it over her breast so that he could feel it in his palm.

"Do you feel my heart beating? – It beats for…"

But, he quickly glanced away again and there was anger in his face. She gritted her teeth and then reached over to take his face between her hands.

What she saw surprised her, there were tears in his eyes. She stroked his cheek in concern.

Yet, when she looked deep into his face, she found herself hesitating the words that Lisanne had told her that she felt only the other day. She had to tell him.

"Robert, I…"

He could see she couldn't she simply couldn't bring herself to admit it, the words he longed for her to say – like some kind of far-reaching fantasy. It broke his heart to realize it would never happen. Before he had a chance to suffer under some sort of sense of delusion, he cut her off again.

"Do not wax poetic to me, dear woman about the state of your heart and longing in your loin. We have more pressing matters to consider – that of our return to England."

He tried to crawl away from her and sink down into the bed out of her reach, but she understood his out maneuvering all too well now. She was starting to learn his little tricks.

"That's what this is all about…" she said, breathing a sigh of frustration.

"It should take approximately a month, in that time we will have…"

"You think that once I have returned to England with you I will go to him, don't you?"

He seemed afraid to answer her as he shifted in the bed and tried to concentrate on other things.

"I think it is time to tell you everything of my past if we are to continue as it's rather of importance that we get our stories straight when we arrive."

"We have later for that – I think we need to discuss this matter first."

But again he ignored her, simply turning away from her slightly but she wasn't so easily dissauded.

"No. I will however need to mention that I do not take lightly the matter of your father's profession when we are to meet with my side of the family," he continued to prattle on, closing his eyes and literally shutting her out.

"Tell me how you feel, I want to hear it!" she insisted and tried to get him to turn around.

"Leave me alone, good woman," he growled under his breath.

"Tell me!" she said, a little more firmly and pulled him at last around to face her.

Finally, he could take no more.

"Enough!" he screamed in her face, so loud that she cowered back from him a little in fear. "Do you have no self control at all? One night of passion does not equate love!"

At last he had said the word he had been most avoiding during this whole conversation.

"It does after what we have been through the last few months, all we ever do is fight and then to have you speak to me the way you did last night – I felt so close to you. But, I'm not giving up so easy, push me away if you want – I know how I feel about you and I know you feel it too, you can't convince me you don't."

He trembled a bit at her words as he rolled over eventually in defeat and took her gently in his arms. Though he snorted a bit contemptuously, albeit quietly in her ear.

"You really are infuriatingly stubborn," he whispered and held her a little tighter. "Would you therefore be content if I admitted to you at least that I care for you?"

She smiled and gave a silent cheer. "I will take that as a wonderful concession – and I care for you as well – very deeply."

He grinned at her response, as she curled her face into the warmth of his shoulder. She was surprised to feel him rocking her a bit.

"You have a crook in your smallest finger," he said, suddenly out of the blue.

She broke away and looked up into his lovely hazel eyes. "What?"

He held up a finger to his forehead. "And a little mole right here that's barely noticeable above your left eye, and you breathe through your mouth when you sleep, and I believe you drool as well."

Her brow furrowed a bit in anger and he just grinned as he found it touching.

"And yet you are perfection – as radiant as the moon shining on the water at night and the sun warming your skin in the daytime," he whispered from nowhere that she felt her heart stop.

She nearly cried as she leaned up to kiss him and hold him tenderly in her arms.

Then she began to recite things of him.

"You have moles as well along your temples," she said, touching him there. "And above your lip, barely disguised by your beard."

She kissed him where she had found it. "But yet, I find myself looking at you and having to pause, overcome by the remarkable strength and beauty of your face."

"Beauty?" he scoffed, looking slightly taken aback by the effeminate comparison.

She grinned and took his chin to level his eyes to hers.

"Beauty," she confirmed. "You are my handsome knight, standing beside me though I dare not understand why, watching over me and caring for me. The rough winds do not temper your remarkable face, your steady gaze, your confident gait as you walk. The soft, deep roll of your voice calms me. Though your temper flares, I feel the passion in you that is unmistakable…"

By this time her words had enthralled him so that he had slid her over underneath him, she smiled as he divided her legs and laid between them. Before she could say another word, she felt him smoothly enter her and fill her up deeply inside as he brought her up into his arms.

The rest of the morning they spent enjoying the pleasure of one another and wishing the world outside away, just one more day.

(For the next week and a half the masquerade of Thomas Kent aboard the ship continued while the nurse kept a low profile, almost entirely out of view from the others on board):

The only time Viola let her guard truly down was when she was with her husband in her cabin. There they continued their evening and even afternoon love making sessions – it was amazing how well they had been getting on of late, almost as if making up for lost time or as he saw it – stolen time, as he knew the future was still uncertain for the both of them.

Viola was just grateful that though it would have still have been a blessing, she didn't end up carrying his child by the third week of the voyage as their sex they shared had been fevered and wonderous.

More than once Lisanne pressed her for details and soon she was opening up, eager to find a friend her age who would understand what made a man tick. Soon they became quite close, even sharing a history with William Shakespeare. It became readily apparent that Lisanne knew him in the biblical sense.

It inflamed Viola's jealousy, something she hadn't felt in some time when discussing her former love, she knew that deep down inside, she still often thought of him and wondered what had become of him.

So it was little wonder then as she was napping beside her husband one afternoon that she had a rather peculiar dream of her past.

Not yet married – she saw herself on stage, dressed as Thomas Kent at the Globe theatre. She was rehearsing her lines alone in preparation for the show later in the day when the doors to the theatre opened. Will had yet to arrive for the day, she could barely contain her excitement at the thought of seeing him again after their tryst from the night before.

Glancing up, she saw a rather familiar person storm inside and immediately rush her near the steps leading up to the stage itself – it was Lord Wessex.

Startled and feeling incredibly exposed, she shrank back as he pulled out a sword and glared up at her in anger. He was a despicable man, loathsome with absolutely no redeeming qualities other than the fact he was rather handsome despite the scowl constantly upon his face. But, now she felt quite scared of him as he growled…

"Where is he?! Where is that penny-pinching, two-timing rogue poet?!"

Viola tried to keep her nerve as she deepened her voice. "I know not of who you speak, sir!"

"My Lord!" he corrected, narrowing his dark eyes. "Be mindful of who you speak to, knave. I will ask only one more time – where is he? Where is William Shakespeare?!"

"He is not here, I do not know when he will return," Viola replied, though she could feel the hair stand up on the back of her neck as he began to pace a little in front of her in the dust. He was like a bull ready to charge but with no target. He finally put away his sword in disappointment. He looked down at the ground.

"Very well, I believe you – I will be back…I…"

Suddenly, he stopped for a moment and glanced back up into her face and looked deep within her eyes. Now she tried to steady her breath as she stared back, unsure what had come over him.

Without comment, he came around to the side of the stage and began to climb up the stairs towards her.

Now Viola felt that her very life was in danger, she wasn't sure what he had in mind as she stumbled backwards a bit, trying to put space between them.

He just stood there – at least three feet away from her and stared at her, his gaze unwaivering and she shook for a moment, feeling a blush uncommonly rise to her cheeks as he seemed to be sizing her up.

Gradually he began to step closer.

Viola stepped back, almost tripping but then decided to be defiant and see his challenge. He noticed it and smiled at her, in a rather beguiling way. A definite blush was rising ever more upon her cheekbone.

He held up his hand as she almost tried to move again.

"I will not harm you!" he whispered.

Finally, he bridged the distance between them and came to stand before her. Reaching up, he pulled her wig from off her head, she gasped in surprise and futively tried to struggle for it but he threw it to the floor. Then, quietly he peeled off her fake beard to reveal her true identity to him. One that she immediately realized he knew.

He raised his hand and softly cupped her cheek. He could feel her trembling under his touch and now she could hear his breathing become a little more laboured as his hand coasted along her jawline and reached around to grasp the back of her neck, burying his fingers into her silky golden hair. She released the script of paper she held in her hands to the floor with a flutter of paper everywhere.

Bringing her forward, he captured her lips with his. Instinctively thinking it would be another harsh kiss as their first, she put her palms flat against his chest in order to push him away, but as his touch turned surprisingly tender and his tongue nudged her lips to part, she found her hands instead inexplicably having a mind of their own as she was grabbing at the lapel of his satin tunic to pull him closer.

This couldn't be happening…but it was. The more he kissed her as he brought her warm body into his arms to cradle her against him – the more she didn't want him to stop.

She raised her hand to bury her own fingers in his ebony curls, they were so incredibly delicate to the touch and she moaned in obvious enjoyment as his breath muffled itself into her cheek as they were lost in the moment.

Suddenly there was a sound of a carriage going by outside the theatre that roused them from their intimacy.

He broke away as quickly as he had drawn her in and let her go. Dropping his hands, he gave her one last longing look and with a grunt of anger, he turned and ran down the stairs and across the room to the door. Throwing it open, he stepped into the daylight and vanished.

Viola was left standing there, confused and breathless, wondering what had just happened and recalling it instantly again and again as she could still feel his touch and his lips on hers, the sound of his breathing in her ears and the heat of his body – how real and solid he felt.

My God, what was she doing?! She was in love with Will – not this – this man! This horrible –

Looking up, she realized something – had he always felt for this way and only now shown it? Yes, they were engaged through an arranged marriage – but…

And this kiss, so much different – he let her respond this time – it was almost as if – he was testing her own desire for him…

She felt so unsure of the feelings rushing through her and her mind shouting "No! No!"

Looking down at her discarded disguise on the stage, she picked it up, glanced only momentarily at the script that had fallen out of her hand during her kiss and decided to return home instead. She hoped the theatre company would not notice her absence, particularly Will.

Her nurse grew concerned for her the moment she came rushing into the house with barely a word spoken to her. She tried to follow her, to ask what was wrong but her mistress refused to answer.

She did not come down for dinner that evening with her parents and now her mother asked the nurse to check on her. Food was sent up to her rooms, but instead it was barely touched as she came into her bedroom to see her staring off into the distance out of her window as she sat upon the seatee.

"Child, what is it? What is the matter?"

Finally, Viola looked up, her eyes full of tears. "I do not know."

Nurse Cordelia held out her arms to the girl and she got up to run over to hug her close to her bosom.

Breaking away, she asked of her. "Tell me nurse, where is the family home of the Wessex?"

"Why do you ask such a thing? It is late! You must stop worrying over trivial things…"

"Please, you must to tell me. I need to see him!"

"Who, child?"

"Lord Robert Wessex. Tomorrow. I have to see him tomorrow."

Cordelia shook her head. "His home is in Somerset, I will show you, but tonight – you need your rest!"

Viola relented and eventually crawled into bed, but try as she might she couldn't sleep. She laid there until the wee hours of the morning, turning things over and over in her head.

It was early the next morning when she dressed in her finery of green silks and her flourished hat when set out for Somerset to find him. She didn't know what she'd say when she saw him, but now he was all she could think of.

The estate was huge, almost like a castle alone amongst the trees and laneway. It was breathtaking. As she approached it by horse, she began to think she'd made a grave mistake. What if he refused to see her?

But, she was his fiancee, he'd have to see her. Perhaps they would live here one day…

Why was she thinking of this. Closing her eyes for a moment, she tried to think of Will but all that flashed to her mind was him – Lord Wessex.

Gulping, she chuckled the horse lightly with her heel and urged him forward up the front lane to the front door. A stable man who had been watching her approach greeted her to help her from her mount. She thanked him as he set her down.

"Please, tell me – where is Lord Robert?"

"You must be Lady Viola de Lesseps, is that correct?" he asked in a gentlemanly manner.

"Yes, that is right. Do you know where he is?"

"He is in the garden behind the house, ma'am. He's taking his afternoon walk."

"Thank you."

She took her gloves in her hand and stood for a moment to gaze up at the house again looming over her. It really was amazing.

Coming around the side and letting herself in the gate, she glanced at the expansive gardens just beyond the marble patio – they seemed to go on for acres. To one side she noticed what looked like a green maze and it was then she spotted him coming around one corner and disappearing again as he was walking by himself, lost in thought.

Gathering up her skirts, she ran down the steps and headed for the maze.

What was she thinking coming here? What would she do? And, would he do? Would she look like a fool on a fool's errand?

It took several moments of walking through the maze and she was much sure by that time she was lost as she searched for him. No longer could she hear the crunch of his footsteps as they vanished into the distance. She didn't dare call for him as she thought it not proper and yet she had no idea where she was much less him.

As she came around one corner suddenly someone grabbed her from behind. Screaming, she turned to find herself in Robert's arms as he pinned her up against one of the hedges.

"Why?!" he asked in a peculiar manner. "Why are you here?!"

Then the answer came to her, one that she'd known for years and suddenly – they were in the here and now, married for two years, having since left by ship for the new world, having gone through many trials and tribulations together, struggles, heartbreak and dependence on one another – and through it all – something she never knew until now…

"I love you!" she cried, tears streaming from her eyes.

The look of surprise and then relief on his face was met by the most incredible thing – a large, honest smile as he suddenly scooped her up in his arms and held her. Held her like he never wanted to let her go.

"I love you!" she whispered into his ear again as she sank into his arms in – happiness.

Suddenly, she awoke from the dream – and seemed disappointed to realize she was back to reality, aboard the cargo vessel borne for England. But, to her obvious relief, she found the most beautiful thing nestled next to her pillow – that of her husband's face, fast asleep.

Smiling, she reached over and stroked his cheek and then leaned in to kiss his brow. He grumbled a little bit and then went back to sleep.

(Though he can sleep, she cannot and so instead she decides to visit the nurse to have a heart to heart about what's on her mind. She quickly dresses again in her men's attire and leaves her cabin):

What surprises her when she arrives at the nurse's cabin is hearing another voice inside. She knocks and it's Lisanne who answers.

"Ah, there you are – I was beginning to think we'd never see you again? Not with your husband this time, Master Kent?" she joked as she let her inside. "I was just talking to Cordelia about the men of this ship. Really it's remarkable about how few manners they have. Unlike your gent."

Her nurse smiled as she listened to her new friend, but grew dour when she saw her mistress' face.

"My dear, what is it – you have such a look of distress – something troubling you?" she asked. She was always like a mother to her.

Lisanne put her arm around her waist also in concern. "Here, come – sit down and tell us what is wrong."

"I dreamt I was with Robert," she began as she sat down between them on the edge of the bed.

Lisanne began to laugh. "I must tell you, Viola – that wasn't a dream."

"Not like that!" chided Viola, grimacing a bit. "It was so strange. I was back in England, I was up on stage practising one of Will's plays when he walked in."

"Lord Wessex?" Cordelia asked her, putting her hand on her lap.

"Yes. He was so angry. He kept ranting how he was looking for Will as he drew his sword. When I said I did not know, he was about to leave when he glared up at me. Next thing I knew he'd joined me on the stage and immediately ripped my guise from my face. Before I knew what was happening, he brought me up against him and we were kissing."

"Mmm…now that is the kind of dream I like having!" Lisanne replied, grinning from ear to ear.

Both Cordelia and Viola gave her a dirty look.

"What?!"

"As I was saying – we were kissing. Then, he left without so much as another word as a sound outside interrupted us. I stood there stunned and all I could think of was Robert. I remember returning to the house. You tried to speak to me, good nurse, but I barely heard you – I asked where Robert lived at his family's estate and you told me Somerset. I went there and followed him into this garden maze. He suddenly caught me as I came around a corner and then I was in the present, married to him, and with our history and…"

Lisanne leaned forward. "And…?"

"I told him that I loved him!" Viola said, covering her face and crying.

The grin on her face grew as she looked over at her friend. Cordelia gasped.

Lisanne reached up and took Viola's hand away. "My sweetness, why are you crying – that is a good thing. There is absolutely nothing wrong with admitting the truth to yourself, now you just have to admit to him. I think he feels the same and is just waiting to know you do too."

Cordelia patted Lisanne's arm. "I agree, my child. I have seen a change in him, and I think that is your doing. I think it is time to tell him."

Viola sighed and started to laugh lightly. "You are both right. I don't know why I haven't of yet. I will tell him – today. I promise."

"Good girl!" Lisanne said and leaned in to kiss her cheek. "Now what say we get us a bite to eat from the galley? I believe I have worked up quite the appetite!"

"I think I will bring you a plate, child. You have been through a lot, please stay here – I will accompany Lisanne and get you some sustenance."

She kissed her mistress' cheek as well and followed the younger woman out of the room as Viola thanked them before she left.

She sat there by herself for a few moments, feeling more happy than ever to know that very soon she'd be telling Robert her feelings for the first time. It was exciting and scary at the same time.

As she mulled over things for a few moments, she glanced down at her nurse's chest in one corner of the room. She knew that due to lack of space in her own belongings, the nurse had offered to store some of hers with her own.

Bending down in front of it, she fiddled with the latch a bit and sprung it open. Peering inside, she found many treasures, including her broaches, and hats and several knickknacks. That's when she spotted it – a small satchel of what looked like handwritten letters.

Picking them up, she immediately recognized the style of script – it could be no other, as she was well familiar with it – William's.

She covered her mouth in horror. As she quickly undid the string holding them together they fell out on the floor. She leaned over and ran her fingers across them – all of them addressed to her, never opened!

"Oh dear Lord! No!" she cried as she started to gather them up in her arms like a mother seeing a child she'd been separated from for years. It broke her heart.

How could her nurse do this to her? Why?! Such betrayal.

Hot and angry tears came to her eyes, so much that she could barely see. It wasn't but a few moments later as she waited for her return that she looked upon her bitterly when the nurse stepped into the room.

"I brought you stew, my dear and some bread…I…."

That's when she stopped dead in her tracks to notice her chest in the corner wide open and Viola clutching very recognizable letters to her breast.

"I do not understand?! Why did you hide these from me?! How could you hurt me in this way?! Tell me!" she screamed. "How many letters did he send to me all those years ago – words I never heard, you just let me suffer in silence with a man who did not love me! How?!"

Cordelia was beside herself. "You don't understand! I did not have a choice!"

"What do you mean – you did not have a choice?!" Viola demanded, the tone of her voice dropping as she realized quickly what she was hinting at.

"He told me to hide them from you!"

"Who?!" she yelled. She was certain that as her heart dropped, she already knew.

"Lord Wessex, your husband!"

Tears streamed from her eyes even more. Here she felt to her heart would have been less painful.

Jumping to her feet, she ran from the room before her nurse could stop her.

"My lady!" Cordelia screamed but it was to little avail.

The horror on her face as she watched her vanish down the hall.

It was only moments before she returned to her cabin to see Robert still fast asleep and not a care in the world, but oh that was about to change if she had anything to do with it.

Coming over to the side of the bed. She shouted at the top of her lungs.

"Get up! Rise, sir! Rouse yourself!"

He blinked hard to the late afternoon light and turned around to see Viola dressed as a young man, her face red with anger and in her arms what looked like letters – ones he immediately recognized.

"What possible thing have I done to you that causes you to hate me so – that you would be resorted to do this? Tell me!" she demanded as she showed in her hands the bundle of her coveted treasure that she dared not let go of.

He scoffed at her, totally unruffled by her charge. "You ask me that? You have the nerve to ask me that?! As though your reputation were saintly pure as the lily-white snow?! Tell me that you do not recall something so fresh in the mind that it felt as if it happened yesterday?! How you made a farce of our engagement and then our marriage by dallying to the entire world and even on stage with that – that – vile and reprehensible playwright William Shakespeare! You really are the simple child I always thought you were – I should have married a woman!"

"But that happened in the past, this is the present!"

"So it matters not your behaviour in the past? Is that what you are saying – that you feel absolutely no remorse?!" he raged as he sat up in the bed at last, and reaching for a nearby robe to throw around himself as he stood before her.

"Remorse? Possibly you can correct me if I'm wrong, but I did overhear from someone at my father's ball when Will first appeared that you said he was 'coveting my property' – that is all I am to you, that is all I ever was – and you expect me to honor and hold dear a man who thinks of me so little? Yes, perhaps I am a child, but I do not wish to be a woman in your presence, sir – and when we return to England – I will help you obtain whatever you need to as far as your estate and then our deal is complete and I would hope that you would grant me my freedom!"

He looked at her coolly and felt his blood run cold. He grimaced slightly – only ever so slightly that she caught in a blink of her eye – making it obvious that finally her words affected him.

"What? Do I retain the tone and voice of my husband and does that displease you?!" she retorted, looking beyond hatred at that very moment, despite the tears in her gray eyes.

"Yes, I will admit it then – I did marry you for mere profit and gain. I thought you a pretty object for my arm and nothing more. So I have the feeling that now I may say everything of my past to you as our time no doubt is solely limited. Sit!"

She refused to and instead turned away from him in disgust.

"I said sit!" he shouted at her.

She was resilient and refused him, despite the fierce anger of his voice.

"Please!" he said, finally.

Quietly she looked back at him in surprise and crossed the room past him to sit on their bed, still she held steadfast to her dearest letters. It was all she had left.

He paced for a few moments and spoke as he did.

"My father was the Lord High Treasurer for Queen Elizabeth I, she was as trusted to him as if he were her advisor as well. He was well bestowed in society and was never for want in money and prestige. That was until he met my mother and he nearly fell from grace in her eyes. The reason being my mother was – a whore."

Viola's eyes grew big as she looked up at him suddenly, now it all made sense – Lisanne, his begrudging respect for her – that was why he held her in so much esteem. She had no idea.

"It pains me to say that of my mother, but it was true. She was very much in love with my father, and within a year she was with child."

"You?" Viola whispered.

He looked down at her, for a mere moment there was a soft look of affection in his eyes, but then he looked away.

"Yes. The queen disapproved of her at first when she learned of my mother's past, but when my father insisted to make good her name and reputation by marrying her – the queen reluctantly acquiesced. But, she told her that she would be required to appear as if invisible to society, to better herself – a kept woman. The queen nearly became my aunt, as I often played at the palace while my father served under her. Though I resented the 'old boot' – I find myself missing her now that she is no longer here. Soon after their marriage, word was received by my father's side of the family the true identity of my mother. They nearly disinherited us then and there, it was only through my father's tireless efforts that we had any shred of contact with them. My mother's family were non-existent, having long since forgotten her when she came to live amongst the poor and destitute."

Viola's eyes softened when she listened to him, despite how she felt to the contrary as he continued to pace in obvious frustration. She actually tried to make room for him beside her, but he staunchly refused and kept pacing.

"When my father died, they did not honor his will. Instead, they took the family estate, all of his finances, and his title from my mother and nearly from me – the Lord in my name only retained as a sort of token of benevolence according to my true aunt. They cast her out, and with it me – that is why I from that point on I made it my goal to regain my name and my reputation by any means possible. The story I told of Virginia was indeed an utter fabrication to appease your father."

He glanced over at her and glared hard at her face.

"Had I only listened to him instead of – my lesser judgment – I would have never made the mistake in my choice. He told me that you were as obedient as 'any mule in Christendom'. I suppose I was not the man to tame you, and I was a fool for trying."

She shivered a bit at his words, she knew her father could be a cold and calculating bastard and had little doubt his words were true. She didn't dare look at Robert now but rather at the floor in defeat.

"We will return to England and I will gladly grant your freedom – if not before then."

"I do not wish to share my bed with you tonight, my 'Lord' – find another place to rest your head!" she snarled and held herself tightly, trying to shut out the pain in her heart.

"Fine," he answered, without any emotion and gathered his clothing without another word from off the cabin floor.

"You have never felt anything for me?" she said suddenly, almost as in a whisper.

He looked up quietly and his eyes almost turned tender before a dark cloud came over him once again.

"I recall telling you I cared for you – admittedly very little. I was simply doing so to placate you into silence and because I wished to fornicate one last time as it helps me sleep."

He sniffed in disdain as if she were merely an insect squashed by his words. It was then a shock when he heard her reply.

"Then I truly must be a fool, for I thought you loved me as I loved you – or thought that I did. You have little to fear, I feel it no longer. Goodnight."

He stood there, with a stricken look on his face – she finally had admitted it, something he'd dared never dream would come from her lips and then it was ripped away. It broke his heart in two. She crawled under the sheets and leaned over to blow out the candle, leaving him in the dark.

Turning he was heard grunting in frustration one last time as he left the room, slamming the door behind him.

She laid for a long time afterwards, crying silently to herself – not over the letters, but the demise of her marriage.


	17. Chapter 17

(The next morning):

It was early when Lord Wessex awoke from his peaceful slumber next to his wife. Once again he became aware of the familiar roll of the sea from underneath him, a sensation he'd tried hard to forget.

And yet, it was worth the sacrifice of comfort to feel Viola's naked and warm body curved into his own as if she were made for him while she slept beside him. He wrapped one of his arms around her and placed his fingers flat against her little tummy. Resting his cheek into the soft cradle of her shoulder, he breathed in the lovely aroma of her hair.

Had last night perchance been nothing but a dream?

Yet here they were together, a feeling of calm as he'd never felt before settled into his bones. It was peace – something he was unaccustomed to.

Smiling, he kissed her cheek as she slept on and then playfully leapt over her side and landed on the floor.

He felt as if he could have eaten two breakfasts that morning and work the labor of three men!

Or perhaps another frolic between the sheets with the fair maiden still lost in the world of dreams would suffice.

Despite the fantasies, he knew the reality of the situation that still faced them. They were returning home. It was something he'd never thought he'd see again – if it wasn't for her, he wouldn't be.

For a moment, the aspect of seeing England again filled him with dread as he looked down at his wife's face.

Now that he had at last shared her body and soul – would he still lose her heart to her dearest playwright?

He began to pad barefoot back and forth on the wood planked floors nervously before turning and throwing open the shutters to the tiny cabin. The smell of salt sea air filled his nose immediately as he looked outside. The waves were so high they nearly came to his chest alongside the ship. He leaned out for a moment, lost in thought and listened to a gull cawing as it flew overhead.

"Robert?" came a soft voice from his bed.

He turned and realized the sunlight had awoken her.

"Go back to sleep, good wife. I did not mean to disturb you, I apologize," he whispered, tenderly.

She smiled and held out her hand to beckon him closer. He came to her side immediately.

"It matters not, I am more than happy to rise to find you next to me and safe. I feel so wonderful this morning, like I was asleep and have just awoken – much thanks to you dear husband."

He sat down on the edge of the bed and tried to muster a smile.

Without a word more, she sat up and took him into her arms. He closed his eyes at her gentle gesture and then squeezed her a little tighter – not wanting to let her go, however brief this moment was.

"All that matters to me now is you," she whispered, more of a confession than simply a gesture of fondness.

He almost wished he could believe that, as he smoothed her bare back and kissed her shoulder, softly. But, she could feel the strain in his muscles.

"Robert, what is it?" she asked him, tenderly. "Tell me you do not regret what we shared?"

"I have a most remarkably brave and beautiful wife - last night was – something that - it was – "

His voice trailed off and she broke away to look at him, she touched his cheek when his dark eyes cast away from hers. She could see that there was something on his mind. He felt humiliated in his feeble attempt to voice his feelings to her and unbraided himself for it.

"Was what?" she asked, tenderly – she hoped he'd say more.

He seemed hesitant, if he betrayed himself to her – would she laugh at him and spurn his emotions?

But as he tried to move away as well physically she would not be so easily deterred, as he sat up, she reached up for him and held him still.

"Please after all we had together last evening, please do not tell me it was all for naught!" she begged. "And I am not remarkable, I did what any woman who stands beside the man she…"

He shut his eyes tightly, not having the courage to hear the words she would utter with cold feeling as if by duty.

"Perhaps I did take advantage of your moment of weakness, to prey upon your need for someone – anyone – you confused me with someone else I fear," he answered, his tone flat as he tried once more to get up.

"Why do you hold yourself accountable so – I do not. And what you say is not true. I made a choice last night as much as you, you know that."

"You seek poetry and romance, and take it into your heart - I just take – and in this instance the one I took was you. And for that I am sorry."

"Robert – where are these words coming from?" she demanded, feeling her blood run cold.

He refused to look at her now.

Instantly she sat full up in bed, throwing aside the sheet that covered her nudity. She took his hand and held it over her breast so that he could feel it in his palm.

"Do you feel my heart beating? – It beats for…"

But, he quickly glanced away again and there was anger in his face. She gritted her teeth and then reached over to take his face between her hands.

What she saw surprised her, there were tears in his eyes. She stroked his cheek in concern.

Yet, when she looked deep into his face, she found herself hesitating the words that Lisanne had told her that she felt only the other day. She had to tell him.

"Robert, I…"

He could see she couldn't she simply couldn't bring herself to admit it, the words he longed for her to say – like some kind of far-reaching fantasy. It broke his heart to realize it would never happen. Before he had a chance to suffer under some sort of sense of delusion, he cut her off again.

"Do not wax poetic to me, dear woman about the state of your heart and longing in your loin. We have more pressing matters to consider – that of our return to England."

He tried to crawl away from her and sink down into the bed out of her reach, but she understood his out maneuvering all too well now. She was starting to learn his little tricks.

"That's what this is all about…" she said, breathing a sigh of frustration.

"It should take approximately a month, in that time we will have…"

"You think that once I have returned to England with you I will go to him, don't you?"

He seemed afraid to answer her as he shifted in the bed and tried to concentrate on other things.

"I think it is time to tell you everything of my past if we are to continue as it's rather of importance that we get our stories straight when we arrive."

"We have later for that – I think we need to discuss this matter first."

But again he ignored her, simply turning away from her slightly but she wasn't so easily dissauded.

"No. I will however need to mention that I do not take lightly the matter of your father's profession when we are to meet with my side of the family," he continued to prattle on, closing his eyes and literally shutting her out.

"Tell me how you feel, I want to hear it!" she insisted and tried to get him to turn around.

"Leave me alone, good woman," he growled under his breath.

"Tell me!" she said, a little more firmly and pulled him at last around to face her.

Finally, he could take no more.

"Enough!" he screamed in her face, so loud that she cowered back from him a little in fear. "Do you have no self control at all? One night of passion does not equate love!"

At last he had said the word he had been most avoiding during this whole conversation.

"It does after what we have been through the last few months, all we ever do is fight and then to have you speak to me the way you did last night – I felt so close to you. But, I'm not giving up so easy, push me away if you want – I know how I feel about you and I know you feel it too, you can't convince me you don't."

He trembled a bit at her words as he rolled over eventually in defeat and took her gently in his arms. Though he snorted a bit contemptuously, albeit quietly in her ear.

"You really are infuriatingly stubborn," he whispered and held her a little tighter. "Would you therefore be content if I admitted to you at least that I care for you?"

She smiled and gave a silent cheer. "I will take that as a wonderful concession – and I care for you as well – very deeply."

He grinned at her response, as she curled her face into the warmth of his shoulder. She was surprised to feel him rocking her a bit.

"You have a crook in your smallest finger," he said, suddenly out of the blue.

She broke away and looked up into his lovely hazel eyes. "What?"

He held up a finger to his forehead. "And a little mole right here that's barely noticeable above your left eye, and you breathe through your mouth when you sleep, and I believe you drool as well."

Her brow furrowed a bit in anger and he just grinned as he found it touching.

"And yet you are perfection – as radiant as the moon shining on the water at night and the sun warming your skin in the daytime," he whispered from nowhere that she felt her heart stop.

She nearly cried as she leaned up to kiss him and hold him tenderly in her arms.

Then she began to recite things of him.

"You have moles as well along your temples," she said, touching him there. "And above your lip, barely disguised by your beard."

She kissed him where she had found it. "But yet, I find myself looking at you and having to pause, overcome by the remarkable strength and beauty of your face."

"Beauty?" he scoffed, looking slightly taken aback by the effeminate comparison.

She grinned and took his chin to level his eyes to hers.

"Beauty," she confirmed. "You are my handsome knight, standing beside me though I dare not understand why, watching over me and caring for me. The rough winds do not temper your remarkable face, your steady gaze, your confident gait as you walk. The soft, deep roll of your voice calms me. Though your temper flares, I feel the passion in you that is unmistakable…"

By this time her words had enthralled him so that he had slid her over underneath him, she smiled as he divided her legs and laid between them. Before she could say another word, she felt him smoothly enter her and fill her up deeply inside as he brought her up into his arms.

The rest of the morning they spent enjoying the pleasure of one another and wishing the world outside away, just one more day.

(For the next week and a half the masquerade of Thomas Kent aboard the ship continued while the nurse kept a low profile, almost entirely out of view from the others on board):

The only time Viola let her guard truly down was when she was with her husband in her cabin. There they continued their evening and even afternoon love making sessions – it was amazing how well they had been getting on of late, almost as if making up for lost time or as he saw it – stolen time, as he knew the future was still uncertain for the both of them.

Viola was just grateful that though it would have still have been a blessing, she didn't end up carrying his child by the third week of the voyage as their sex they shared had been fevered and wonderous.

More than once Lisanne pressed her for details and soon she was opening up, eager to find a friend her age who would understand what made a man tick. Soon they became quite close, even sharing a history with William Shakespeare. It became readily apparent that Lisanne knew him in the biblical sense.

It inflamed Viola's jealousy, something she hadn't felt in some time when discussing her former love, she knew that deep down inside, she still often thought of him and wondered what had become of him.

So it was little wonder then as she was napping beside her husband one afternoon that she had a rather peculiar dream of her past.

Not yet married – she saw herself on stage, dressed as Thomas Kent at the Globe theatre. She was rehearsing her lines alone in preparation for the show later in the day when the doors to the theatre opened. Will had yet to arrive for the day, she could barely contain her excitement at the thought of seeing him again after their tryst from the night before.

Glancing up, she saw a rather familiar person storm inside and immediately rush her near the steps leading up to the stage itself – it was Lord Wessex.

Startled and feeling incredibly exposed, she shrank back as he pulled out a sword and glared up at her in anger. He was a despicable man, loathsome with absolutely no redeeming qualities other than the fact he was rather handsome despite the scowl constantly upon his face. But, now she felt quite scared of him as he growled…

"Where is he?! Where is that penny-pinching, two-timing rogue poet?!"

Viola tried to keep her nerve as she deepened her voice. "I know not of who you speak, sir!"

"My Lord!" he corrected, narrowing his dark eyes. "Be mindful of who you speak to, knave. I will ask only one more time – where is he? Where is William Shakespeare?!"

"He is not here, I do not know when he will return," Viola replied, though she could feel the hair stand up on the back of her neck as he began to pace a little in front of her in the dust. He was like a bull ready to charge but with no target. He finally put away his sword in disappointment. He looked down at the ground.

"Very well, I believe you – I will be back…I…"

Suddenly, he stopped for a moment and glanced back up into her face and looked deep within her eyes. Now she tried to steady her breath as she stared back, unsure what had come over him.

Without comment, he came around to the side of the stage and began to climb up the stairs towards her.

Now Viola felt that her very life was in danger, she wasn't sure what he had in mind as she stumbled backwards a bit, trying to put space between them.

He just stood there – at least three feet away from her and stared at her, his gaze unwaivering and she shook for a moment, feeling a blush uncommonly rise to her cheeks as he seemed to be sizing her up.

Gradually he began to step closer.

Viola stepped back, almost tripping but then decided to be defiant and see his challenge. He noticed it and smiled at her, in a rather beguiling way. A definite blush was rising ever more upon her cheekbone.

He held up his hand as she almost tried to move again.

"I will not harm you!" he whispered.

Finally, he bridged the distance between them and came to stand before her. Reaching up, he pulled her wig from off her head, she gasped in surprise and futively tried to struggle for it but he threw it to the floor. Then, quietly he peeled off her fake beard to reveal her true identity to him. One that she immediately realized he knew.

He raised his hand and softly cupped her cheek. He could feel her trembling under his touch and now she could hear his breathing become a little more laboured as his hand coasted along her jawline and reached around to grasp the back of her neck, burying his fingers into her silky golden hair. She released the script of paper she held in her hands to the floor with a flutter of paper everywhere.

Bringing her forward, he captured her lips with his. Instinctively thinking it would be another harsh kiss as their first, she put her palms flat against his chest in order to push him away, but as his touch turned surprisingly tender and his tongue nudged her lips to part, she found her hands instead inexplicably having a mind of their own as she was grabbing at the lapel of his satin tunic to pull him closer.

This couldn't be happening…but it was. The more he kissed her as he brought her warm body into his arms to cradle her against him – the more she didn't want him to stop.

She raised her hand to bury her own fingers in his ebony curls, they were so incredibly delicate to the touch and she moaned in obvious enjoyment as his breath muffled itself into her cheek as they were lost in the moment.

Suddenly there was a sound of a carriage going by outside the theatre that roused them from their intimacy.

He broke away as quickly as he had drawn her in and let her go. Dropping his hands, he gave her one last longing look and with a grunt of anger, he turned and ran down the stairs and across the room to the door. Throwing it open, he stepped into the daylight and vanished.

Viola was left standing there, confused and breathless, wondering what had just happened and recalling it instantly again and again as she could still feel his touch and his lips on hers, the sound of his breathing in her ears and the heat of his body – how real and solid he felt.

My God, what was she doing?! She was in love with Will – not this – this man! This horrible –

Looking up, she realized something – had he always felt for this way and only now shown it? Yes, they were engaged through an arranged marriage – but…

And this kiss, so much different – he let her respond this time – it was almost as if – he was testing her own desire for him…

She felt so unsure of the feelings rushing through her and her mind shouting "No! No!"

Looking down at her discarded disguise on the stage, she picked it up, glanced only momentarily at the script that had fallen out of her hand during her kiss and decided to return home instead. She hoped the theatre company would not notice her absence, particularly Will.

Her nurse grew concerned for her the moment she came rushing into the house with barely a word spoken to her. She tried to follow her, to ask what was wrong but her mistress refused to answer.

She did not come down for dinner that evening with her parents and now her mother asked the nurse to check on her. Food was sent up to her rooms, but instead it was barely touched as she came into her bedroom to see her staring off into the distance out of her window as she sat upon the seatee.

"Child, what is it? What is the matter?"

Finally, Viola looked up, her eyes full of tears. "I do not know."

Nurse Cordelia held out her arms to the girl and she got up to run over to hug her close to her bosom.

Breaking away, she asked of her. "Tell me nurse, where is the family home of the Wessex?"

"Why do you ask such a thing? It is late! You must stop worrying over trivial things…"

"Please, you must to tell me. I need to see him!"

"Who, child?"

"Lord Robert Wessex. Tomorrow. I have to see him tomorrow."

Cordelia shook her head. "His home is in Somerset, I will show you, but tonight – you need your rest!"

Viola relented and eventually crawled into bed, but try as she might she couldn't sleep. She laid there until the wee hours of the morning, turning things over and over in her head.

It was early the next morning when she dressed in her finery of green silks and her flourished hat when set out for Somerset to find him. She didn't know what she'd say when she saw him, but now he was all she could think of.

The estate was huge, almost like a castle alone amongst the trees and laneway. It was breathtaking. As she approached it by horse, she began to think she'd made a grave mistake. What if he refused to see her?

But, she was his fiancee, he'd have to see her. Perhaps they would live here one day…

Why was she thinking of this. Closing her eyes for a moment, she tried to think of Will but all that flashed to her mind was him – Lord Wessex.

Gulping, she chuckled the horse lightly with her heel and urged him forward up the front lane to the front door. A stable man who had been watching her approach greeted her to help her from her mount. She thanked him as he set her down.

"Please, tell me – where is Lord Robert?"

"You must be Lady Viola de Lesseps, is that correct?" he asked in a gentlemanly manner.

"Yes, that is right. Do you know where he is?"

"He is in the garden behind the house, ma'am. He's taking his afternoon walk."

"Thank you."

She took her gloves in her hand and stood for a moment to gaze up at the house again looming over her. It really was amazing.

Coming around the side and letting herself in the gate, she glanced at the expansive gardens just beyond the marble patio – they seemed to go on for acres. To one side she noticed what looked like a green maze and it was then she spotted him coming around one corner and disappearing again as he was walking by himself, lost in thought.

Gathering up her skirts, she ran down the steps and headed for the maze.

What was she thinking coming here? What would she do? And, would he do? Would she look like a fool on a fool's errand?

It took several moments of walking through the maze and she was much sure by that time she was lost as she searched for him. No longer could she hear the crunch of his footsteps as they vanished into the distance. She didn't dare call for him as she thought it not proper and yet she had no idea where she was much less him.

As she came around one corner suddenly someone grabbed her from behind. Screaming, she turned to find herself in Robert's arms as he pinned her up against one of the hedges.

"Why?!" he asked in a peculiar manner. "Why are you here?!"

Then the answer came to her, one that she'd known for years and suddenly – they were in the here and now, married for two years, having since left by ship for the new world, having gone through many trials and tribulations together, struggles, heartbreak and dependence on one another – and through it all – something she never knew until now…

"I love you!" she cried, tears streaming from her eyes.

The look of surprise and then relief on his face was met by the most incredible thing – a large, honest smile as he suddenly scooped her up in his arms and held her. Held her like he never wanted to let her go.

"I love you!" she whispered into his ear again as she sank into his arms in – happiness.

Suddenly, she awoke from the dream – and seemed disappointed to realize she was back to reality, aboard the cargo vessel borne for England. But, to her obvious relief, she found the most beautiful thing nestled next to her pillow – that of her husband's face, fast asleep.

Smiling, she reached over and stroked his cheek and then leaned in to kiss his brow. He grumbled a little bit and then went back to sleep.

(Though he can sleep, she cannot and so instead she decides to visit the nurse to have a heart to heart about what's on her mind. She quickly dresses again in her men's attire and leaves her cabin):

What surprises her when she arrives at the nurse's cabin is hearing another voice inside. She knocks and it's Lisanne who answers.

"Ah, there you are – I was beginning to think we'd never see you again? Not with your husband this time, Master Kent?" she joked as she let her inside. "I was just talking to Cordelia about the men of this ship. Really it's remarkable about how few manners they have. Unlike your gent."

Her nurse smiled as she listened to her new friend, but grew dour when she saw her mistress' face.

"My dear, what is it – you have such a look of distress – something troubling you?" she asked. She was always like a mother to her.

Lisanne put her arm around her waist also in concern. "Here, come – sit down and tell us what is wrong."

"I dreamt I was with Robert," she began as she sat down between them on the edge of the bed.

Lisanne began to laugh. "I must tell you, Viola – that wasn't a dream."

"Not like that!" chided Viola, grimacing a bit. "It was so strange. I was back in England, I was up on stage practising one of Will's plays when he walked in."

"Lord Wessex?" Cordelia asked her, putting her hand on her lap.

"Yes. He was so angry. He kept ranting how he was looking for Will as he drew his sword. When I said I did not know, he was about to leave when he glared up at me. Next thing I knew he'd joined me on the stage and immediately ripped my guise from my face. Before I knew what was happening, he brought me up against him and we were kissing."

"Mmm…now that is the kind of dream I like having!" Lisanne replied, grinning from ear to ear.

Both Cordelia and Viola gave her a dirty look.

"What?!"

"As I was saying – we were kissing. Then, he left without so much as another word as a sound outside interrupted us. I stood there stunned and all I could think of was Robert. I remember returning to the house. You tried to speak to me, good nurse, but I barely heard you – I asked where Robert lived at his family's estate and you told me Somerset. I went there and followed him into this garden maze. He suddenly caught me as I came around a corner and then I was in the present, married to him, and with our history and…"

Lisanne leaned forward. "And…?"

"I told him that I loved him!" Viola said, covering her face and crying.

The grin on her face grew as she looked over at her friend. Cordelia gasped.

Lisanne reached up and took Viola's hand away. "My sweetness, why are you crying – that is a good thing. There is absolutely nothing wrong with admitting the truth to yourself, now you just have to admit to him. I think he feels the same and is just waiting to know you do too."

Cordelia patted Lisanne's arm. "I agree, my child. I have seen a change in him, and I think that is your doing. I think it is time to tell him."

Viola sighed and started to laugh lightly. "You are both right. I don't know why I haven't of yet. I will tell him – today. I promise."

"Good girl!" Lisanne said and leaned in to kiss her cheek. "Now what say we get us a bite to eat from the galley? I believe I have worked up quite the appetite!"

"I think I will bring you a plate, child. You have been through a lot, please stay here – I will accompany Lisanne and get you some sustenance."

She kissed her mistress' cheek as well and followed the younger woman out of the room as Viola thanked them before she left.

She sat there by herself for a few moments, feeling more happy than ever to know that very soon she'd be telling Robert her feelings for the first time. It was exciting and scary at the same time.

As she mulled over things for a few moments, she glanced down at her nurse's chest in one corner of the room. She knew that due to lack of space in her own belongings, the nurse had offered to store some of hers with her own.

Bending down in front of it, she fiddled with the latch a bit and sprung it open. Peering inside, she found many treasures, including her broaches, and hats and several knickknacks. That's when she spotted it – a small satchel of what looked like handwritten letters.

Picking them up, she immediately recognized the style of script – it could be no other, as she was well familiar with it – William's.

She covered her mouth in horror. As she quickly undid the string holding them together they fell out on the floor. She leaned over and ran her fingers across them – all of them addressed to her, never opened!

"Oh dear Lord! No!" she cried as she started to gather them up in her arms like a mother seeing a child she'd been separated from for years. It broke her heart.

How could her nurse do this to her? Why?! Such betrayal.

Hot and angry tears came to her eyes, so much that she could barely see. It wasn't but a few moments later as she waited for her return that she looked upon her bitterly when the nurse stepped into the room.

"I brought you stew, my dear and some bread…I…."

That's when she stopped dead in her tracks to notice her chest in the corner wide open and Viola clutching very recognizable letters to her breast.

"I do not understand?! Why did you hide these from me?! How could you hurt me in this way?! Tell me!" she screamed. "How many letters did he send to me all those years ago – words I never heard, you just let me suffer in silence with a man who did not love me! How?!"

Cordelia was beside herself. "You don't understand! I did not have a choice!"

"What do you mean – you did not have a choice?!" Viola demanded, the tone of her voice dropping as she realized quickly what she was hinting at.

"He told me to hide them from you!"

"Who?!" she yelled. She was certain that as her heart dropped, she already knew.

"Lord Wessex, your husband!"

Tears streamed from her eyes even more. Here she felt to her heart would have been less painful.

Jumping to her feet, she ran from the room before her nurse could stop her.

"My lady!" Cordelia screamed but it was to little avail.

The horror on her face as she watched her vanish down the hall.

It was only moments before she returned to her cabin to see Robert still fast asleep and not a care in the world, but oh that was about to change if she had anything to do with it.

Coming over to the side of the bed. She shouted at the top of her lungs.

"Get up! Rise, sir! Rouse yourself!"

He blinked hard to the late afternoon light and turned around to see Viola dressed as a young man, her face red with anger and in her arms what looked like letters – ones he immediately recognized.

"What possible thing have I done to you that causes you to hate me so – that you would be resorted to do this? Tell me!" she demanded as she showed in her hands the bundle of her coveted treasure that she dared not let go of.

He scoffed at her, totally unruffled by her charge. "You ask me that? You have the nerve to ask me that?! As though your reputation were saintly pure as the lily-white snow?! Tell me that you do not recall something so fresh in the mind that it felt as if it happened yesterday?! How you made a farce of our engagement and then our marriage by dallying to the entire world and even on stage with that – that – vile and reprehensible playwright William Shakespeare! You really are the simple child I always thought you were – I should have married a woman!"

"But that happened in the past, this is the present!"

"So it matters not your behaviour in the past? Is that what you are saying – that you feel absolutely no remorse?!" he raged as he sat up in the bed at last, and reaching for a nearby robe to throw around himself as he stood before her.

"Remorse? Possibly you can correct me if I'm wrong, but I did overhear from someone at my father's ball when Will first appeared that you said he was 'coveting my property' – that is all I am to you, that is all I ever was – and you expect me to honor and hold dear a man who thinks of me so little? Yes, perhaps I am a child, but I do not wish to be a woman in your presence, sir – and when we return to England – I will help you obtain whatever you need to as far as your estate and then our deal is complete and I would hope that you would grant me my freedom!"

He looked at her coolly and felt his blood run cold. He grimaced slightly – only ever so slightly that she caught in a blink of her eye – making it obvious that finally her words affected him.

"What? Do I retain the tone and voice of my husband and does that displease you?!" she retorted, looking beyond hatred at that very moment, despite the tears in her gray eyes.

"Yes, I will admit it then – I did marry you for mere profit and gain. I thought you a pretty object for my arm and nothing more. So I have the feeling that now I may say everything of my past to you as our time no doubt is solely limited. Sit!"

She refused to and instead turned away from him in disgust.

"I said sit!" he shouted at her.

She was resilient and refused him, despite the fierce anger of his voice.

"Please!" he said, finally.

Quietly she looked back at him in surprise and crossed the room past him to sit on their bed, still she held steadfast to her dearest letters. It was all she had left.

He paced for a few moments and spoke as he did.

"My father was the Lord High Treasurer for Queen Elizabeth I, she was as trusted to him as if he were her advisor as well. He was well bestowed in society and was never for want in money and prestige. That was until he met my mother and he nearly fell from grace in her eyes. The reason being my mother was – a whore."

Viola's eyes grew big as she looked up at him suddenly, now it all made sense – Lisanne, his begrudging respect for her – that was why he held her in so much esteem. She had no idea.

"It pains me to say that of my mother, but it was true. She was very much in love with my father, and within a year she was with child."

"You?" Viola whispered.

He looked down at her, for a mere moment there was a soft look of affection in his eyes, but then he looked away.

"Yes. The queen disapproved of her at first when she learned of my mother's past, but when my father insisted to make good her name and reputation by marrying her – the queen reluctantly acquiesced. But, she told her that she would be required to appear as if invisible to society, to better herself – a kept woman. The queen nearly became my aunt, as I often played at the palace while my father served under her. Though I resented the 'old boot' – I find myself missing her now that she is no longer here. Soon after their marriage, word was received by my father's side of the family the true identity of my mother. They nearly disinherited us then and there, it was only through my father's tireless efforts that we had any shred of contact with them. My mother's family were non-existent, having long since forgotten her when she came to live amongst the poor and destitute."

Viola's eyes softened when she listened to him, despite how she felt to the contrary as he continued to pace in obvious frustration. She actually tried to make room for him beside her, but he staunchly refused and kept pacing.


	18. Chapter 18

"When my father died, they did not honor his will. Instead, they took the family estate, all of his finances, and his title from my mother and nearly from me – the Lord in my name only retained as a sort of token of benevolence according to my true aunt. They cast her out, and with it me – that is why I from that point on I made it my goal to regain my name and my reputation by any means possible. The story I told of Virginia was indeed an utter fabrication to appease your father."

He glanced over at her and glared hard at her face.

"Had I only listened to him instead of – my lesser judgment – I would have never made the mistake in my choice. He told me that you were as obedient as 'any mule in Christendom'. I suppose I was not the man to tame you, and I was a fool for trying."

She shivered a bit at his words, she knew her father could be a cold and calculating bastard and had little doubt his words were true. She didn't dare look at Robert now but rather at the floor in defeat.

"We will return to England and I will gladly grant your freedom – if not before then."

"I do not wish to share my bed with you tonight, my 'Lord' – find another place to rest your head!" she snarled and held herself tightly, trying to shut out the pain in her heart.

"Fine," he answered, without any emotion and gathered his clothing without another word from off the cabin floor.

"You have never felt anything for me?" she said suddenly, almost as in a whisper.

He looked up quietly and his eyes almost turned tender before a dark cloud came over him once again.

"I recall telling you I cared for you – admittedly very little. I was simply doing so to placate you into silence and because I wished to fornicate one last time as it helps me sleep."

He sniffed in disdain as if she were merely an insect squashed by his words. It was then a shock when he heard her reply.

"Then I truly must be a fool, for I thought you loved me as I loved you – or thought that I did. You have little to fear, I feel it no longer. Goodnight."

He stood there, with a stricken look on his face – she finally had admitted it, something he'd dared never dream would come from her lips and then it was ripped away. It broke his heart in two. She crawled under the sheets and leaned over to blow out the candle, leaving him in the dark.

Turning he was heard grunting in frustration one last time as he left the room, slamming the door behind him.

She laid for a long time afterwards, crying silently to herself – not over the letters, but the demise of her marriage.

"Would you care to dance?" Burbage asked Viola, offering his hand.

"It would be my pleasure," she gushed and he led her away.

She watched Robert as he noticed his bride once again being steered away by another man and the jealousy was clearly evident on his face. Now Burbage posed as a new threat. But, Viola just ignored him and danced several reels with the tall man who softly held her and moved easily across the floor together.

When the dancing had finished, she looked about the room for her husband, seeing him sitting off to the side – not taking part in anything as he was wont to do – and settled in beside him. He glanced over at her, not sure how to react to her presence, but she just smiled at him softly. Without a word or comment, she just nestled in next to him and laid her head in exhaustion on his shoulder. It was as if the weight of all their recent voyages and the dancing had finally taken their toll on her. What she did next surprised even him, gently lifting his hand up with both of hers which were so petite in comparison, to her pearl-coloured lips and kissed it belovedly. Then she rested her head back and closed her eyes, slipping her through his as she slept.

What the couple failed to notice was that they were being observed from behind a nearby curtain shadowing a door by which William Shakespeare stood. He looked on in obvious astonishment as he saw Wessex smile and then tenderly kiss the crown of his wife's golden hair and close his eyes as they rested together in complete and utter – unity.

It dawned on him that space and time had done the most amazing thing – it had caused the vehemence the married couple had originally felt for one another and turned it into – love.

She was in love with him, but even more surprising – he was in love with her.

Will looked a bit disappointed, but what had he expected of this chance meeting again really? For her to give up the life she now had for the one she knew. He had dared to hope that the anger still remained in her for Lord Wessex, but now he could truly see it had been in vain.

Later that evening, as time passed, Will finally had a moment of respite from festivities to speak with Viola alone. She kissed his cheek warmly and closed his eyes to savor the fleeting favour.

"You are looking well," she whispered, as she drew away.

"And as are you. I can tell by the warm glow upon your cheek that the sunshine seems to relish it's rays onto you."

William stepped a little closer and despite herself, she could feel the familiar sensation of her pulse quickening. There was definite interest for her still in his eye and as he smiled warmly at her, she felt the tentative touch of his fingers along the arm of her ivory gown that was exposing skin up to her elbow. It sent an immediate shockwave to her brain and fleetingly she knew that she didn't want this any longer.

It was a definitive feeling - one she couldn't deny. It was over for them. She knew that now.

As he got just a little too close for comfort, she suddenly commented...

"I hear your wife is with child?"

Will's mood turned somber immediately and he knew then that she was putting an end to it.

"Yes, it was quite the surprise, but I find myself quite overjoyed at the news."

Viola couldn't help but smile now. "I am most glad to hear it. I should expect the child will take up the art of the stage or you should teach him or her to."

Will laughed good-naturedly at her pleasant humor.

As she spoke a little longer to Will, her eyes wandered over to Lord Wessex who had come into her line of vision. He looked disappointed yet tried to hide his emotions as he looked away. But soon their eyes reached out to one another and she felt her breath stop. There was no doubt in Viola's mind at that point that her heart was now solely her husband's.

Will followed her gaze which was constantly being drawn away from his as they continued to talk, to the point that he finally asked her.

"You love him now, do you not?"

She looked back at him and lowered her eyes to her feet.

"Yes, I am so sorry, Will - I never planned on it happening as it did, but..."

"Does he love you?"

"I - I am not certain of it, but I hope he does. He at times seems to show that he does, yet he's never voiced such sentiment."

"You do not have to explain, it is to be expected when you are married and have only one another in the lean times as well as the fair. Your heart is not your captive, you must not apologize to me."

She smiled at him, he was always good to her.

"I am happy for what we have shared in the past, I do not regret any of it. I know that I had wished things could have turned out differently but I am glad the way it did end," he continued to say.

"You inspired me, you made me become more than I had ever imagined, not only when I was with you but when I was up on stage. I will never forget what you have meant to me, not now and not then."

He opened his arms to her and she sank into his embrace immediately, softly turning her face up to his, he tenderly kissed her goodbye.

"Have a good life, Viola, that's all I have ever wished for you - for you to be truly happy."

What they didn't realize was Robert had witnessed everything and began to run straight for the couple in rage, before he withdrew and exited out a side door, roughly pushing his way past a couple of gala goers, which raised the attention of Viola and Will.

Viola was about to run after him, when Will put up his hand.

"I will go, you stay here."

Robert was pacing a fountain in the courtyard when he heard someone approach him from behind. Turning, he saw it was Shakespeare and immediately tried to reach for a sword from his belt, which he recalled he did not have on him on this occasion.

Instead, he tried to go charging at him with his fists, before Will threw up his hands in defense.

"Lord Wessex, please - I did not come here to quarrel with you! Listen to what I have to say and I promise I will go."

Robert was fuming, but as he took a deep breath and with Will still standing there, practically trying to shield himself from his obvious assault. He continued to pace like an angry bull which continued to put him on edge.

"I was saying goodbye. I must admit I came tonight in hopes of seeing her again and to see if the love she had for me was still there, but as soon as I noticed her eyes were unable to stay with mine and she constantly glanced over at you the entire evening, I know it was no longer the case."

"And why should I take your word as truth?!" Wessex screamed at him, waving his arms. "You have never given me a reason to in the past."

"I promise you, as my soul is my witness - I know she is no longer mine and I will no longer pursue her as I once did. I apologize for the past where I wronged you as she was bethrothed to you. But, that is just that - the past. I saw her resting her head on your shoulder and you kissing her hair fondly and the bond you now share. No one can be allowed to break that any longer."

Robert turned quiet and sat down by the edge of the fountain in defeat.

"You love her?" Shakespeare whispered to him as he came to stand by his side.

He lowered his head and rested his face in his hands. "Unfortunately yes."

"You have no yet told her?"

"Stop with the eternal questions!" Robert barked, but gazing up at Will he saw his sympathetic expression and relented. "No."

"Then, far be it from me to say this - but perhaps tonight is the time and place to tell her how you feel. I think she would no longer be fearful and restless in your company if you can erase the doubts she has in her mind over your relationship to her."

"Perhaps," Robert finally consented and looked up at him, his heart suddenly softened. "Thank you."

Will returned the smile and nodded then started to return to the gala.

"One thing before you go, I have something I'd like to say..." Robert said loudly from across the courtyard.

Will turned back to his words and listened.

"Your work - though I did not recognize it at the time - is truly remarkable. I read a great deal of it during our voyage to the new world. I can not convey what it did for me, but I think you in part changed my outlook on life and opened up a new one for me. I thank you for that."

Shakespeare clearly blushed. "I am grateful for your kind words, my Lord."

Robert nodded, as Will turned he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks.

"You told me that you would tell Viola your feelings tonight, Lord Wessex, is that right?" he asked, not turning.

"Yes, perhaps as I recall I told you."

Finally Will turned to him and smiled. "I think I may be able to help you, if you are willing..."

Robert gave him a confused look.

"I am staging one of my plays for the king tonight - it is called Twelfth Night. My main heroine is named Viola, I wrote it shortly after she left on her voyage with you. What would you think if you were to approach her to take part in the play as her title character and the play's love interest Duke Orsino was later replaced in the final act by you, coming on stage to tell Viola of your feelings for her. The words would be your own, then she would have no doubts."

The light in Shakespeare's eye could barely contain his creative energy, he was beaming.

Robert pondered it for a moment and then came up to Will, patting him on the shoulder as he passed him to go inside.

"You are indeed a vexing and meddlesome man!"

WIll laughed lightly and followed him inside.

(After the play is discussed with Viola, she agrees wholeheartedly to play the part of Viola on stage at once. The nurse is also convinced to take on the role of Maria, a lady in waiting of Countess Olivia. Richard Burbage, a veteran of the stage takes on the role of Duke Orsino):

'The leading character, Viola, is shipwrecked on the shores of Illyria during the opening scenes. She loses contact with her twin brother, Sebastian, whom she believes to be dead. Masquerading as a young page under the name Cesario, she enters the service of Duke Orsino through the help of the sea captain who rescues her. Orsino has convinced himself that he is in love with the bereaved Lady Olivia, whose father and brother have recently died, and who will have nothing to do with any suitors, the Duke included. Orsino decides to use "Cesario" as an intermediary to tell Olivia about his love for her. Olivia, believing Viola to be a man, falls in love with this handsome and eloquent messenger. Viola, in turn, has fallen in love with the Duke, who also believes Viola is a man, and who regards her as his confidant.'

Over the course of the play, people in the audience sit transfixed by the performances on stage. Towards the very end, the twins finally meet once again after having been separated and to the amazed eyes of Duke Orsino and Olivia, finally revealing the masquerade.

Burbage gives his lines on stage, watching a cue from off-stage for his replacement.

'Give me thy hand; And let me see thee in thy woman's weeds.'

Viola turns to do so and suddenly is met not by Burbage on stage - but of Robert, who looks at her with love in her eyes.

"I...I..." she begins to say, totally forgetting her lines and wondering what was going on.

The audience are also confused wondering why there had been a sudden switch in actors portraying the role.

Robert takes her hand gently in his and before her bends down on one knee and finally confesses to her his feelings that he'd been keeping bottled up until this point.

"I never believed it was possible to sacrifice so much of oneself to someone and yet gain so much in return. I thought at first you did it out of gain for yourself, all your motives and then later I saw that was not the case. I was a shallow individual, never caring for anyone other than myself and perhaps my dear mother, I had no room for any other woman - that was until I first saw you and that delusion quickly vanished. My heart stood still, but has beaten stronger every day since. At first it was possession I felt, like a right I had, but then it became jealousy. Now it is replaced with pride and respect for a strong, loving woman who has stood beside me every day. Each day I learn something new of you and want to keep learning, if you allow me. Above all us, I am blessed to share my life with you. What I am trying to say - though not poetically -"

She held her breath as her eyes flooded with tears looking down at him, he gently kissed her hands that were folded around his tenderly.

"Is that I love you, good wife - my wonderous Viola."

She fell down on the stage into his arms and he held her tightly.

He holds her in disbelief and saying she doesn't want to say goodbye to him "I thought it was the one thing I wished for most fervently when we first met, but now I know I couldn't bear to live my life without you, it would be like I was tearing my soul in two. I love you as no other".

They hold onto each other tightly and he asks her.

"Would you do me the honor of accepting my hand in marriage once again? Only this time - properly?"

She nods and they break into a kiss in front of everyone as the crowd rises to their feet applauding loudly, thinking it is part of the play.

Will looks on with a melancholy look on his face and then smiles, rather fragilely and adds "I may have to change the end of my play."

Burbage looks over as he stands next to him and puts his arm around him. "There will be other plays, many my friend - you did an amazing thing. You're a good man!"

"Thank you, my friend."

As Will goes on stage to accept the cheers for the wonderful playwright, Burbage turns to see a woman who was strangely familiar to him standing just in the wings.

"Oh hello there. Aren't you that lovely little tart of Will's?"

She gives him a dirty look.

"Ah yes, and aren't you that rogue, two-bit theatre owner Burbage?"

"You've heard of me? Kind things I hope?"

"No," she answers truthfully.

"Good!" He says with a gleam in his eye.

He puts out his hand.

"Happy to make your acquaintance."

"Charmed I'm sure," she laugh. "You don't remember me, do you?"

"Oh that's right – you cost me ten shillings one night. I dare say it was worth more than that!"

She grins at him, soon they take up with one another.

"You wouldn't – ahem – like a return engagement in my rooms upstairs, per chance?" he asks her.

"For the price of admission."

"You always do have an entrance fee, do you not?"

She just laughs and takes his arm. "Perhaps I will give you an advance showing – just this once."

He smiled. "It is to be a good day today, I think."

They go off together.

(A few months pass):

Robert and Viola have a sumptuous ceremony over the Christmas time, in the beauty of the snow, bells on the carriage and Viola and he dressed in white and re-affirm their vows, it's at this point that Viola realizes she is with child. She finally joins her husband in the carriage without escaping as the nurse hugs him playfully again and Robert hugs her back laughing. Viola rests back in his arms and they ride off together.

The Wessex' name is once again reinstated by the family and his mother is allowed to share the family fortune thanks namely to her son and his new bride.

Viola later bears him three children – two boys and a girl. Wessex takes some of his dowry from his marriage to Viola and builds her a playhouse, so not only she can perform but to teach their children to as well.

THE END


End file.
